


From the Silver Doe to Malfoy Manor

by Chanel19



Series: Deathly Hallows Missing Moments [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23548285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chanel19/pseuds/Chanel19
Summary: These are missing moments between the Silver Doe and Malfoy Manner. Mostly from Ron's POV.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: Deathly Hallows Missing Moments [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694764
Comments: 44
Kudos: 54





	1. Part I: Weight of the World

A heavy rain was pouring down outside the tent. Hermione had cast two sealing charms to keep the water from leaking through the canvas since it had been alternating between ice and rain for two days. Ron had been back for the better part of a week and the three of them were sitting at the table sharing a meager dinner of beans. Ron had done the cooking, as he'd been doing since he'd returned. He'd brought cooking oil and spices with him from his foray into the real world. A little salt and pepper, a little garlic powder, and meals weren't quite as bleak as they had been.

"When this weather lets up," Ron said to break the silence. "We're going to have to go somewhere near a village. This was the last of the beans. All that's left is porridge, a few potatoes, a couple of carrots, and a bag of split peas."

"Alright," Harry said.

Hermione remained silently picking at her bowl of beans.

"I saw Bill and Fleur…while I was away," Ron ventured, desperate to have some conversation.

Hermione cut her eyes at him and then looked back at her bowl.

"Yeah?" Harry said. "How are they?"

"Fine. They're not able to work right now, but they're safe enough."

"Good," Harry said.

"Anyway, I spent a lot of time in the kitchen with Fleur," Ron continued.

Hermione muttered something under her breath, but refused to look at him.

Ron ignored her and went on. "She's a really good cook."

Hermione let out a soft huff.

"Yeah?" Harry said, looking at Hermione, whose head remained down.

"Yeah," Ron said. "That's the French for you, right? So, we talked a lot about how to make easy, inexpensive meals. I have some ideas about supplies we should get. I'll make a list after dinner and we can go over it."

"That sounds good," Harry said.

"I also talked to Bill," Ron said, glancing at Hermione. "He and Charlie used to go camping a lot. He taught me a spell for a stunning snare. Sometimes we see rabbits and hares. If we could catch one, it would be nice to have meat for a change."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I can't remember the last time we had meat. Grimmauld Place probably."

"Right? And if we're somewhere near water, there's a fishing pole here, and Bill also showed me how to stun ducks. I don't know that we'll have the opportunity, but if we do—"

Hermione stood abruptly and started to scrape the remains of her meal into Harry's bowl.

"Stop that!" Ron snapped. It was the first time he'd spoken sharply to her since his return. Harry gaped at him. Without saying anything, Hermione scraped the rest of her beans into Harry's bowl.

"You need to eat all your food," Ron said, his tone calmer.

"It never bothered you before," Hermione said, her voice unnaturally calm. "I'm smaller than either of you. I don't need as much."

"Bollocks," Ron said.

Harry gathered his bowl and slid down the bench and out from under the table, quietly making his way outside.

"What is?" Hermione said, undeterred by his language. "That I'm smaller than you two? Or that I don't need as much to eat?"

"Both," Ron said stubbornly. "You and Harry are the same height."

"But he's a bloke," Hermione said, still keeping her tone neutral. "And the Chosen One."

Ron shook his head. "You need to eat your portion. You're both so…I mean…bloody hell, Hermione," he said quietly. "That shirt used to fit you."

Hermione looked down at the flannel shirt she was wearing. He was right. It had darts in the front designed to make it more fitted and now it hung off her like a feed sack. "Well, I'm sorry if my clothing doesn't meet with your approval," she said acidly, misinterpreting what he was trying to say.

"That's not…" He huffed. "You're just so thin now."

She frowned at him. "But you're not, are you? Well-fed and right as rain, you are."

He could feel his embarrassment flush across his face, but he remained undeterred. "Yeah, yeah, but that's just it. Before, before I…left…I didn't notice so much. I guess because we were all losing weight and we saw each other every day, so it wasn't so obvious, but now…now that I'm back…well…I'm just saying…it's a stark contrast."

She leaned forward resting her palms on the table and he couldn't help noticing that he could see the outlines of the bones and tendons in her hands in a way he never could before. "Well, I'm so sorry that you feel bad about how little there has been to eat around here," she said with a threatening edge to her voice, "but it's been a challenge getting enough food with just the two of us."

"I know," Ron said. "I shouldn't have left. I tried—"

"I've heard this before, Ron," she said testily.

"I'm sorry." He shook his head. "I just want you to eat your share."

She huffed at him and reached for her bowl, but he got to it first. "Leave it. I'll do the cleaning up."

She glared at him. "So that's it, that's your strategy?"

He looked up at her. "What?"

"You're going to do all the cooking and all the cleaning. Ron the house elf and all will be forgiven." She was shaking, she was so angry.

He sighed. "Yeah. I don't know what else to do."

"Well, that's just," she sputtered. "That's…" She let out a kind of strangled growl and stormed into her area of the tent, yanking the curtain closed behind her.

A deafening silence fell on the other side of the curtain and he knew she'd cast a muffling charm. He sighed and picked up his bowl to join Harry outside. Harry was finishing his dinner in front of the fire. Ron sat down. Harry looked at him without saying anything. They ate in silence for a while.

Harry set down his empty bowl and Ron picked it up and put it under his. "You reckon she'll ever forgive me?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. "Don't know, mate, but she does have a real fondness for house elves."

Ron chuckled then said seriously, "You've forgiven me though, yeah?"

"Sure," Harry said, "but you did save my life and you didn't humiliate me."

"What?" Ron gasped. "I never—"

Harry scowled at him. "She ran after you, cried your name, and begged you not to leave. She put her cards on the table and you spit in her face."

Ron shook his head. "I…it wasn't…oh, bloody hell, bloody hell." He sat in stunned silence staring at the fire. "I just want to take it all back," he whispered.

"Well, you can't," Harry said grimly. "So, I'd settle in, if I were you, because I don't think she's likely to perk up any time soon."

"Right," Ron said sadly and got to his feet. "I'm going to go do the dishes." He slipped back inside the tent feeling a tight fist in his stomach. When he was done in the kitchen, he did as he had done every night since he'd gotten back, he fiddled with the radio trying to find Potterwatch so he could take a stab at guessing the password. He really wanted Harry and Hermione to hear it. He was sure it would cheer them up to hear the voices of their friends and to know there were people out there on their side.


	2. Ron the House-Elf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron tries hard to make up for leaving.

Late the next day, the weather cleared so they decided to move. When the tent was collapsed and stuffed into Hermione's bag and all evidence of their presence was cleared away, Harry took Hermione's arm. She gave him an odd look that Ron couldn't interpret. He took her other arm, conscious of the fact that this was the first time he'd touched her since he got back. She'd hit him, of course, but he didn't feel like that counted. She stiffened when his hand wrapped around her arm. Harry threw the Invisibility Cloak over the three of them and Hermione raised her wand. They spun into the tight squeeze of Apparition.

When they landed, Hermione immediately yanked her arm away from Ron and started setting up the wards while Harry put away his cloak and dug through her bag for the tent. They were in a wooded glen. Ron looked around and started gathering firewood. As he picked up branches, he noticed a hole in the ground that he thought looked like a rabbit warren. He cast the spell for the stunning snare. He didn't know if it was an active warren or not, but if he managed to get a rabbit or two, at least dinner wouldn't be so bleak. He looked over to see that Hermione was done with the wards and was looking for mushrooms. Harry had finished with the tent and was picking up firewood too. Ron caught his eye and signaled him over.

Harry joined him and Ron explained about the snare. "If we're lucky, we'll get one or two and then I can make stew. It won't be proper stew without a bit of cream but I reckon it'll beat a pot of peas.

"I'm so sick of dried peas," Harry said.

"Fingers crossed then, mate," Ron said and resumed collecting firewood.

xXx

When they'd picked up all the fallen wood within the protection of the wards and stacked it near the tent, Ron and Harry started to break it up. Hermione returned with a basket full of mushrooms.

"I found Velvet Shanks," she said. "I'll just take the skin off the tops and they'll be ready to cook."

Ron's wand vibrated in his back pocket. "Yes!" he said, grinning. He hurried over to where he'd set the snare and was treated to a mature rabbit stunned on the ground. Harry and Hermione had followed him.

"What are you going to do now?" Harry asked.

"Reset the snare and clean it," Ron said.

"Oh," Hermione said. She'd gone a bit pale.

"You don't have to be here for that bit," Ron said. "Go inside. I can take care of it."

She bristled. "Please. It's not as if I'm a vegetarian." But her eyes darted away uncertainly.

"Right," Ron said. "Course not, but unless you know the spells to skin and clean a rabbit…"

"No," Hermione admitted. "Fine. I need to look at the maps and find a village anyway."

"Sure," Ron said.

She headed back to the tent.

Ron redid the stunning snare, showing Harry the spell as he did it. Then he picked up the rabbit by the ears and took it over behind the tent. "This'll be quick," he said to Harry, who looked a bit nervous. "You don't have to stay."

"No," Harry said. "I should learn how to do it."

Ron could hear _in case you leave again_ at the end of the sentence. "Yeah, alright." He wanted to say he could do it. He wanted to say he would always do it and that he would never leave again, but that seemed like opening a barely closed wound. It only took a minute to have the rabbit skinned and cleaned. "Accio plate," he said and a tin plate came sailing out of the tent. Harry grabbed it, as Ron used Diffindo to remove the head and cut the rest of the body into six different pieces. "Could you cast a charm to dig a hole?" he asked Harry. "I don't want to leave the head out here where Hermione might come across it."

"Sure," Harry said, looking a bit green.

"There's not much to it, is there?" Ron said, sadly. "I hope we catch another one." He took the rabbit inside and cast a cooling charm on the plate to keep it fresh. Hermione was sitting on the sofa pouring over a map of the UK that she had spread out across the coffee table. Harry took out his wand and held it to the kettle to make it boil.

"Is there any tea left?" Ron asked.

"No, but there's some instant coffee that was left in the tent when we got it. Want some?"

Ron sighed. "I guess. I know there's no milk. Any sugar left?"

Harry shook his head.

"We've got to get supplies," Ron said. He looked at Hermione. "Any luck finding a place?"

She sighed. "There are loads of options. It would be nice if we could pick one that mattered in some way."

Harry handed Ron a cup of coffee. "Hermione?"

"Sure," she said.

He went back for two more mugs.

"I'd like to find the next Horcrux as much as you," Ron said. "But, right now the immediate concern is food."

"He's right," Harry said. "Just pick the nearest village. We've got to stock up."

She sighed and pointed to a tiny nearby hamlet called Norton Saint Philip. "My mum had a friend who lived in this village. We visited her several times. I could get us there. They have a Co-op."

"Perfect," Harry said. "We'll go tomorrow. It's already getting dark and we have food for tonight."

Ron got up and went into the small kitchen area of the tent. He'd soaked two cups of dried peas the night before, so he drained those and started peeling the potatoes, making sure to get all the green off where they'd started to sprout. Then he pealed the carrots, got out the mushrooms Hermione had picked, and cast a spell to chop everything. He got out the soup pot, put it on the stove and lit the burner. Then he put a bit of oil in the bottom and let it get hot while he sprinkled the rabbit with salt, pepper and garlic powder. When the oil was ready he started sautéing the carrots. He kept hoping his wand would vibrate again and that they'd have another rabbit to go in the pot, but it remained distressingly still. When the carrots started to soften, he put in the pieces of rabbit and the mushrooms, letting it all brown before he cast Aguamenti to fill the pot with water. He added the peas and cast another heating charm to speed up the boil and let everything cook.

Ron went back into the sitting area and found Hermione reading on the sofa while Harry fiddled, yet again, with the Snitch that Dumbledore had left him. He was rolling it between his fingers, but looked up when Ron came in. "That smells good," Harry said.

"Thanks," Ron said. "I was hoping for another rabbit, but it doesn't look like that'll happen."

"It's kind of surprising you got that one, isn't it?" Harry said. "Don't rabbits hibernate this time of year?"

"No," Ron said. "They just aren't as active."

"Are you sure?" Harry said. "I thought—"

"Rabbits don't hibernate," Hermione said, without looking up from her book.

"Oh," Harry said.

Ron smiled. It wasn't much, but it felt a bit like a victory that she'd taken his side. After all, she could have just chosen not to comment. He looked at her. She was sitting cross-legged on the sofa in jeans and a flannel shirt with a heavy wool jumper over it. She'd put her hair in one long braid like she wore it most days. The braid seemed a lot longer than it had before. It was halfway down her back now. When they'd started out, it had only reached just past her shoulders. She pulled the jumper down over her hands and it reminded him of holding her hand as they fell asleep at Grimmauld Place. Even though it was only a few months ago, it seemed like a life time, like they were just kids back then, and now they were firmly and grimly adults. He sighed and went back into the kitchen to check the stew. The water was boiling, so he added the potatoes and cast a spell to bring it down to a simmer. He tasted the broth and then added more salt and pepper and more garlic powder.

"I reckon that'll be ready in a half an hour," Ron said, taking the other end of the sofa and stretching his arm along the back." His hand was only about six inches from Hermione, but she might as well have been miles away. She made no indication that she even noticed he'd sat down.

"I can't wait," Harry said.

Ron chuckled. "Me either. I'm really hungry." He looked at Hermione, hoping for a comment, but she kept her head down and turned a page. He sighed and pulled over the piece of parchment that he'd started the grocery list on and added a couple of items. He hated this part of being out here, the waiting around with nothing to do. Harry was back to fiddling with the snitch. Hermione was reading a book he was sure she'd read a dozen times already. He sighed again and picked up a book on charms. It was a relief to close it a half hour later. He'd already read it twice before. He got up and went to serve the soup.

Fishing around in the pot he pulled out the pieces of rabbit and put them two to a bowl and then used a ladle to pour stew on top. "Harry," he said. "Could you get water for everyone?"

"Sure," Harry said. He pulled his wand and filled three glasses and brought them over.

Ron brought over the bowls of stew. Hermione remained where she was. Ron sighed. He couldn't tell if she was engrossed in what she was reading or just being churlish. "Hermione," he said. "Soups on."

She closed her book and took a seat at the table all while avoiding looking at Ron.

Ron ate a spoonful of stew and was delighted. It was good. It was really good. All those hours with Fleur in the kitchen had paid off.

Harry grinned at him. "This is amazing."

Ron grinned back. "Thanks." He looked at Hermione.

"It's very good," she said, without looking back at him.

"How'd you make it," Harry said.

Ron walked him through the process. "It's down to Fleur," he finished. "She taught me all the basics, like browning the meat before putting the water in and sautéing the vegetables first. I learned a lot."

Hermione rose from the table. "It's getting dark. I should start my watch," she said to Harry and went to get her coat.

When she'd closed the tent flap behind her, Harry said quietly, "Here's a tip for getting back in her good graces, stop talking about what a great cook Fleur is."

"What? Why, she really—"

"You used to complain all the time about Hermione's cooking."

"Yeah, but…well, you and I were rubbish at cooking too," Ron said. "None of us knew what we were doing, did we? It wasn't just her."

Harry gave him a withering stare. "Are you seriously that thick?"

"What?" Ron said. "You're the Hermione expert now, are you? Well, fine. What other wisdom can you share."

Harry's face went hard. "Not everything I know about Hermione is your bloody business." He stood, and went outside. Ron understood now, that while Harry had forgiven him for his transgressions against him, he hadn't forgiven him for his transgressions against Hermione. Ron rubbed a hand down his face and looked at the bowls on the table, empty now except for some rabbit bones. As he cleared the dishes, he couldn't help wondering what all Harry knew about Hermione now. He wondered what all those nights alone had been like for them. A sick feeling washed over him. He knew the locket had lied. He knew Hermione had never fancied Harry, that they weren't in love, but then, it wasn't always about love was it. He glanced at the tent flap and wondered what kind of comfort they might have taken in each other while he was gone. After all, it had been weeks, and they had no way of knowing how desperately he'd tried to get back to them.

"Bloody hell," he muttered and cast the spell to clean the dishes.

xXx

Harry came back in a little while later to find Ron walking toward him with two mugs. "I thought she might like some coffee."

"Yeah probably. It's freezing out there."

Ron nodded. "There's more hot water on the stove."

"Thanks," Harry said and Ron stepped outside.

Hermione was sitting by the fire with her arms wrapped around her knees which were drawn up to her chin. Ron handed her a mug. "Coffee."

She looked up to take it and he tried to catch her eye but her glance skittered away from him. "Thanks," she muttered and took a sip.

"Cheers," Ron said, and sat next to her, not too close, but not on the other side of the fire either. "Bloody cold out here," he said, looking up at the stars. "But at least it's clear." He took a sip of his instant coffee. It was bitter and hot, _like Hermione,_ he thought and snorted at his own joke.

She glared at him. "What?"

"Nothing," he said. "I just hate this stuff, but at least it's warm."

She made a noncommittal noise and drank some more.

He cast around, desperate for something to talk about, but it had to be the right something, nothing that reminded her that he'd left, nothing that made them too sad about missing home. "Do you know the constellations?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "You took the same Astronomy classes I did."

"Yeah," Ron said wistfully. "I wished I'd paid more attention now. I'd like to know the names of what I'm looking at."

"I didn't bring any Astronomy books," Hermione said.

"Right," Ron said. "Course not." He'd hoped, of course, that she would name the stars for him.

They sat in silence for what felt like a long time and drank coffee. When she was done, Ron took her cup. "Goodnight then," he said.

"Night," she muttered back.


	3. He Who Hesitates

Harry was lying in his bunk when Ron went in, so Ron brushed his teeth and changed into his pajamas. He sighed when he realized how short they were. They barely reached his ankles. He was clearly growing again, which explained why he was hungry all the time. He sighed and went to bed, but as he approached the bunks, he realized Harry had turned to face him and was awake.

"She alright?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. "I guess. I got a couple of complete sentences out of her, so I think that's progress."

"Sounds like," Harry said, and rolled back over.

Ron climbed into his bunk and ignored his stomach when it growled. He had third watch, so if he fell asleep now, he could be fully rested when it was his turn outside. He had always been blessed with the ability to sleep easily and soundly, so when he heard the initial shout, he stirred but didn't come fully awake until the second shout, shriller, closer. "Harry!" Ron rolled out of bed, not stopping for shoes or a coat, just grabbed his wand and ran. He wasn't fully awake until the cold air hit him as he popped out of the tent. Hermione was standing in her pajamas, which he couldn't help noticing were riding quite low on her hips.

"Just stay there," she was saying. "I'll come down."

"No. I'm fine," Harry said. "I just slipped. It startled me. I'm sorry I woke you."

"What's going on?" Ron said, standing next to Hermione. Harry was down the slope sitting on the ground.

"Nothing," Harry said. "I'm fine. Just went for a slash and slipped on some leaves on the way back."

Ron walked down the slope. "If you're fine, why are still sitting here?"

"I'm just catching my breath. The fall knocked the wind out of me."

"So, all your bits are intact then?" Ron said, chuckling and reaching out his hand. Harry took it and Ron pulled him to his feet.

"At least my bits aren't on display," Harry said.

Ron glanced down and realized two of the buttons in the front of his pajamas were undone. "Bloody hell." He turned around, tucked himself away, and buttoned back up. He hoped Hermione hadn't seen him wagging about.

Harry snorted.

"Come on then," Ron said. "You're covered in mud."

"Right," Harry said, and they trudged back up to the top of the hill where Hermione was anxiously waiting with her arms crossed tightly.

"Be careful, there are a lot of wet leaves," she said.

"If only I'd taken note of that earlier," Harry said.

"Or just used the toilet in the tent," Ron said.

When they reached the top of the hill, the light from the tent illuminated them and Hermione said, "You're bleeding. Come inside."

"Don't fuss," Harry said. "It's not bad."

"Don't tell me not to fuss when you're bleeding," Hermione said.

Ron thought she'd gone quite pale and was clearly upset.

"Hermione, it's okay," Harry said.

"Just go sit down. I'll get the Dittany." She hurried into her room for her beaded bag. Generally, she had it on her and at night, Ron was pretty sure she slept with it.

Harry sat down on one of the wooden chairs by the table and Ron cast a cleaning charm on him. Without the mud, the blood was more obvious. His khaki pants were torn and his left knee was quite bloody. His left hand was also scraped and his coat was torn on the left elbow.

"Guess you slid on your left side," Ron said.

"Brilliant deduction there, Ron," Harry said, but without malice.

"Right?" Ron teased. "Hermione's clearly not the only genius around here."

Harry laughed.

Hermione emerged from her curtained-off bedroom holding a small bottle. In the light, Ron could see that her pajamas hung so low on her hips because they didn't fit anymore. He'd seen those pajamas before, when she'd stayed at the Burrow, and knew that the long-sleeved shirt was meant to come over the top of the pants, but now, there was that tantalizing strip of skin. Worse, she wasn't wearing a bra, and she was cold. He shook his head to keep from staring and went to change into a jumper and jeans. He pulled on his boots and went back out to the sitting area.

Hermione was holding Harry's hand flat and let a drop of Dittany fall on the cut. She'd already taken care of his knee. They seemed so comfortable together in the moment. Harry seemed unaffected by her closeness or that her pajama bottoms were slung so low on her hips. Ron couldn't decide exactly why that was. Was Harry disinterested because he still loved Ginny, or was being so physically close to Hermione old hat? Ron cleared his throat. "I'll take the rest of your shift."

"No," Harry said. "I'm fine now."

"Nah," Ron said, "Mine's starting soon anyway." He didn't stick around to argue. He needed very badly not to be in the tent anymore.

"He's right," Hermione said behind him. "You should get some rest."

Ron plopped down in front of the fire and stared out into the night. He didn't even feel jealous, not really, alright some, but mostly he was sad and angry at himself for ever walking away. He shook his head to clear it. He didn't know anything. He was making inferences based on very little evidence. It was probably all in his mind brought on by the despair of her barely speaking to him. Harry had said the locket was lying and that he thought of Hermione as a sister and Ron believed that. He did. Only, Hermione wasn't actually Harry's sister, so… He had to think about something else. Either they had or they hadn't. There was nothing he could do about it and it wasn't his business anyway.

He was startled out of his musings by Hermione coming out of the tent. She'd pulled a heavy wool jumper over her pajama top and it hung past her hips. She handed him a cup of coffee.

"Cheers," Ron said.

She stood looking at him for a moment.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"You didn't hesitate," she finally said.

"What?" Ron said, not sure what she was talking about.

"Just now, with Harry, I stopped at the top of the hill, but you just went down and got him."

Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, but he told us what happened, didn't he? I knew to mind the leaves."

"You dove into the water after him too," she said softly.

"That bloody locket was trying to drown him," Ron said. "I had to do something. You'd a done the same thing."

"I'm not so sure," Hermione said.

"You know," Ron said, "You're right. You probably would've done something clever, cast a spell or something, but you would have acted. You've done it often enough."

She made a non-committal noise.

"Look," Ron said. "It's taken both of us to keep that nutter alive all this time. I plow ahead and you stop and think, which is a good thing, because while sometimes my way works, sometimes it doesn't, and you have to save us both with a clever plan."

A ghost of a smile played across her lips but then disappeared.

Ron sighed. "I know I left you on your own to manage him. I know that wasn't fair, but I'm back, and I promise I won't leave again. I'll see this through, Hermione, I swear."

She stood there for another long moment staring at him before she went back into the tent.

Ron sighed and put another branch on the fire and wondered again if she'd ever really forgive him.


	4. Page Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Food is acquired. Potions are made. Page Three makes everyone uncomfortable.

The next night, Ron and Hermione made ready to go to the Co-Op grocery in Norton Saint Philip. Ron had offered to go alone, preferring to leave Harry and Hermione safely behind the wards, but Hermione had insisted that it would be faster with the two of them. Besides, she could Apparate them directly to the store since she'd been there and Ron would only be able to do line of sight hops to get there. Ron reluctantly agreed and got the list.

"We'll be back shortly," Hermione told Harry as Ron pulled the Invisibility Cloak over them. They'd been blessed with another clear night and the shop was long closed at this hour. They should be able to make it there and back in no time.

Ron took her arm and a deep breath as he always did before Apparating, only this time, he dropped his head just a bit, and took in the scent of Hermione's hair. He'd missed that scent. It was spicy and a little sweet. _Cinnamon_ , he thought, _with notes of vanilla._ He assumed that was her shampoo, but beneath that there was something warmer, that was just her, and it made his pulse throb. He'd smelled it in the Amortentia sixth year and found it profoundly disturbing at the time, but now, he just took comfort in it.

They landed behind the shop and Hermione made quick work of the back door with Alohomora. Ron pulled the cloak off and they went into the shop. They were both under glamor charms because Hermione said the shop might have cameras set up. Ron didn't understand how that would work, but he trusted her, because she'd been raised a Muggle and knew these things. She moved quickly through the aisles, counting as they put bags of potatoes, onions, rice, and several bags of dried beans in her beaded bag. They moved to the next aisle and got dried onions, cinnamon, more salt and pepper, a big bottle of cooking oil, two bags of sugar, two tins of powdered milk, and four large containers of instant oatmeal porridge. Then they went to the tea section and got four boxes of tea, and three tins of powdered hot chocolate mix, and another large jar of instant coffee. Ron looked at her when she dropped it in the bag. "It's useful for staying awake, she said, and it'll be there when we run out of everything else." As a splurge, they got a dozen eggs, a bag of oranges, and a packet of Hobnobs. They went over to the toiletries aisle and stocked up on toilet paper, which was so much better than transfiguring stacks of leaves. They also got shampoo, conditioner for Hermione, and bars of soap. "Let's go," Hermione said, as she pulled a stack of banknotes from her bag and left them next to the till. At the last moment, she put down another bill and picked up all the different newspapers the shop carried.

Ron thought it was ridiculous that she still insisted on paying for everything and he didn't see the point in picking up Muggle newspapers, but he wasn't going to argue about it now. He had no idea how much Muggle money she had. She'd told them that she'd withdrawn all her money from her Muggle bank but hadn't given an amount. They went back outside, Hermione relocked the shop door, and Ron pulled the Invisibility Cloak back over them. She Apparated them again to just outside the wards around their tent. She cast a quick spell to open one section and they crossed inside as Ron pulled off the cloak. Harry had been sitting by the fire, but got to his feet. Hermione immediately turned around and reset the barrier.

"Come see what we got," Ron said and they all went into the tent. Hermione dropped her glamour charm and started unpacking the food from her bag.

"Tea!" Harry exclaimed. "And Hobnobs!"

"I thought we deserved a treat," Hermione said. "Put the Kettle on, will you?

"I've got it," Ron said, dropping his own glamour charm.

"Oh, hey, you brought newspapers," Harry said, with excitement in his voice. "Fantastic."

"What's the point in Muggle newspapers?" Ron asked. "It's not like they're covering our war."

"No," Harry said, "but they'll cover when it spills over into there's. Besides, it's nice to have something to read instead of just spell books"

"And there's often a crossword puzzle," Hermione added. "My dad and I used to do those in the _Times_."

"A what?" Ron asked.

"It's a type of word game," Harry said.

Ron poured the tea and brought the mugs over while Harry opened the Hobnobs. "What are these?" Ron asked, reaching for one.

"Chocolate covered oat biscuits," Harry said.

"That sounds delicious," Ron said, taking a bite. "These are fantastic!"

They split the pack three ways, and this time Hermione did eat her whole portion. A quiet fell over the table as they enjoyed their biscuits and drank their tea. Harry pulled over a copy of _The Guardian._ Hermione took the _Times._ Ron looked at the unfamiliar papers and took one called _The Sun._ "Bloody hell!" he said after a moment and closed the paper.

Harry looked up.

"Did you know Muggles put naked ladies in their newspapers?" Ron asked. He couldn't believe it. Even the _Daily Prophet_ at its worst never stooped so low.

"Found page three, did you?" Hermione said dryly.

"You knew about this?" Ron said, his voice higher than he would have liked.

"Yes. It's a sexist tradition dating back to the seventies," Hermione said. "And they're not naked, they have on knickers."

"Does your paper have naked ladies then?" Ron asked.

"No," Hermione said. "And, strictly speaking, neither does yours."

"Right," Ron muttered. Harry remained quiet behind his copy of _The Guardian_. Ron decided it was prudent not to ask him what he was looking at. He sighed. It was difficult enough being out here with Hermione without having photos of topless women about. At least they were Muggle photos and didn't move. That would have probably done him in straight away.

"Ah ha!" Hermione said. "Found the crossword." She stood, taking her tea with her. "I'm going to go work this outside while I do my watch."

She went to get her coat and stepped out of the tent. Ron watched her and stood. "You want some more tea?" he asked Harry. "I'm going to reuse this bag."

"Nah," Harry said. "It's late. I should go to bed. I won't sleep if I have more tea."

Ron reconsidered and sat back down.

"There's a disaster mentioned in here that might be magic based. I wish I knew," Harry said.

"Let me see," Ron said.

Harry slid the paper over and Ron read an article about a bridge collapsing and killing three people. "Seems like it might be magic to me," he said. "The bridge was relatively new and there hadn't been any problems before."

Harry sighed. "I know. We've got to stop him."

"We will," Ron said. "We've just got to find the next Horcrux and destroy it." Ron tried to stay cheery, especially since it was quite clear that his absence had been very grim for Harry and Hermione. Harry had said she'd cried a lot, at least the first week, and probably after but she'd tried to keep it hidden. He'd said they often went long periods without speaking. It made Ron's heart sink to think about how they might have filled those hours. Was it all doom and gloom or had they eventually reached for comfort from each other? But if they had, it was his fault. He opened _The Sun_ back to page three. "I can't believe they put pictures like this in their newspapers."

"Since when do you not like photos of half-naked women?" Harry said, arching an eyebrow at him.

Ron closed the paper and leaned across the table and whispered, "Since I'm living in a small tent with Hermione and trying not to walk around sporting my own tent pole, you prat."

Harry laughed.

"Yeah, yeah," Ron said. "It's all funny to you."

"Nah," Harry said, sobering. "I know it's tough."

"It's so much easier for girls," Ron grumbled.

"Is it?" Harry asked.

"Please, their feelings aren't out there for the whole world to see. They can hide their attractions, can't they?"

"That's true," Harry said, "But we're all in the same boat managing them, aren't we?"

Ron's mouth dropped open as he realized what Harry was saying and that Harry's awareness of that likely came from discussing the matter with either Ginny or Hermione and he didn't want to think about either of those possibilities. "Stop," he said, holding up his palm.

"Stop what?" Harry said.

"Stop talking. I don't want to know how you know that."

Harry snorted a laugh as he stood and picked up his tea. "I wasn't planning on citing my sources, but you said so yourself, Ron, it's a small tent. I don't expect there's much the three of us don't know about each other's habits, do you?"

Ron grabbed Harry's arm as he went to move past him. "What?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. "You really are a sound sleeper, aren't you? She dreams and not always quietly, so do you, and likely, so do I. It's pretty obvious, when a certain sort of dream is followed by a muffling charm, to know what's happening, don't you think?"

Ron dropped Harry's arm. "Do you think Hermione knows?"

Harry gave him a withering look. "She's eighteen, Ron, not eight. Of course, she knows, she's not an idiot."

Ron pressed his hands over his face. "I did not need to know that."

Harry picked up _The Guardian_ and clapped Ron on the shoulder. "Sorry, mate." He went behind the curtain to their bunks.

Ron sighed and refilled the kettle, casting a charm to make it boil. He walked outside to where Hermione was sitting in front of the fire writing. As he approached, she set down the paper.

"I didn't mean for you to stop," Ron said. "I just thought you might like a refill."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and held up her cup. "Thanks. I'm done actually. I just did the quick puzzle."

"Right." He cleared his throat, desperately trying not to envision what she might do in her bunk at night. "I thought I might set up some wards down by the creek in the morning and see if I can catch some fish for tonight. Seems a shame to waste the opportunity since we don't always camp near water."

"Sounds good," Hermione said.

Ron nodded and went back inside, trying to school his thoughts. Back in the tent, he dug out the fishing pole and flies left by the previous occupant.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked from his bunk.

"I'm going fishing in the morning."

"Need some help?" Harry asked.

"No. I'm good. I'll set up wards."

"Oh, I see," Harry said casually. "Need a little private time?"

Ron could feel himself blush. "Oh, shut it."

Harry snorted.

xXx

The next morning, Ron trudged back to camp with three large gutted graylings on a string. Harry and Hermione were sitting by the fire drinking their morning tea. Harry grinned at Ron. "Feel better?"

Ron grunted at him and Harry chuckled. Hermione looked confused but didn't ask for clarification, which Ron found disheartening. Generally, she hated not being in on the joke or not understanding something.

"At least you caught some fish," Harry said. "I thought fishing was for spring and summer. That's when Uncle Vernon used to take Dudley."

"Nah," Ron said. "You can pretty much fish year-round if you know what you're trying to catch. Grayling are good this time of year. I cleaned them down by the water. I just need a suitable log." He started pawing through the wood they'd stacked. Earlier, he and Harry had found a whole tree that had fallen and had used their wands to cut it into logs. Ron took a couple of logs, pulled out his wand, and split them in two. "Perfect," he announced. He went inside the tent and came out with a bottle of cooking oil. He lightly coated the insides of the logs and then cast a sticking charm to hold each fish in place and set the logs near the fire. "Won't be long now," he announced happily and took the oil back inside and returned with three cups, one of which had forks in it, stacked on three plates and passed them around. He noticed Hermione watching him, but didn't comment. He felt like she had to be approached carefully, if at all. Things had been going, if not exactly well, then at least better between them.

It didn't take long for the fish to cook, and Ron popped one on each plate and they tucked in. "Watch for bones," he said. "They aren't filleted."

"This is amazing," Harry said. "Best breakfast ever. I can't believe you're such a good cook now."

"Well," Ron said, "I knew I had to get back here and I wanted to be able to contribute something when I did."

"What are you talking about?" Harry said. "You contributed before."

"Not really," Ron said. "After we left Grimmauld Place, I spent most of my time whinging."

"You were hurt," Harry said. "That wasn't your fault."

"No," Hermione said quietly. "It was mine."

"No, it wasn't," Ron and Harry both said.

"It was that bloody Death Eater's fault," Ron said firmly.

"You saved us," Harry added. "With a very impressive double jump."

"Not impressive enough," Hermione said.

"But you did it," Ron said. "No hesitation." He gave her a pointed look.

"Yes, and we see where that got you," she said grimly.

"You mean alive?" Ron said. "Yes. Thank you."

"In pieces," she added.

"One little piece missing," Ron said. "Not bad for the circumstances. I can barely manage to get all of me someplace by myself in a single jump."

Hermione didn't seem to hear him. "There was so much blood," she said in hollow whisper.

"But you got him patched up," Harry said. "And look at him now, he's fine."

Hermione glanced at Ron. "Right. I don't think I can finish this. You two should eat it. I have work to do." She handed her plate to Harry.

"But we were going to have oranges for dessert," Ron said plaintively.

"I'll eat mine later," she said, walking toward the tent.

"See that you do," Ron called after her. "You don't want to get scurvy."

"Scurvy?" Harry said, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know," Ron said, shrugging. "She said something about not getting scurvy when she picked up the oranges. Some Muggle thing, I guess."

Harry shrugged.

xXx

When Ron went inside a few minutes later to put away the dishes and get oranges for him and Harry, he saw that Hermione had her potions equipment set up on the table and was stirring a cauldron on the stove. "What are you making?" he asked as he cast the spell to clean the dishes.

"Some potions we need," she said. "I've already got Essence of Dittany cooling."

Ron put away the dishes and picked up two oranges. There were two cauldrons on the table. One was empty and the other was set to the side. He could tell from the smell it was the Dittany. She was crumbling something into the cauldron that she had going on the stove. Ron leaned over her shoulder to look at what she was doing. "Need any help?"

"No, I've got it," she said without looking at him.

"What's this one then?" he asked, sniffing at the cauldron. It smelled faintly of raspberries.

"It's for me," she said.

"Why? What's wrong? Are you sick?" Ron asked.

"No. I'm fine. I just need this and I'm almost out," she said, glancing at him, a slight flush appearing on her cheeks.

"But what is it?" Ron persisted. Now he was worried she had some condition she was taking a potion for that he and Harry didn't know anything about, but then, maybe Harry did know.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," she grumbled. She turned to face him and he could tell she'd gone from somewhat embarrassed to angry. "It's a contraceptive potion. Okay?"

Ron's mouth dropped open as all his worst fears about what had gone on between her and Harry were suddenly realized. She'd said she was almost out of it, which meant she'd been taking it, and now she needed more, which meant... "Oh," he gasped. "Isn't the charm easier?"

"The charm doesn't stop me menstruating," she explained. "I don't need to deal with that out here."

"Right," Ron nodded. "Of course, not. Carry on." He didn't bother asking what the third cauldron was for. His face felt like it was on fire and he couldn't get out of the tent fast enough.


	5. Presumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Divided worlds lead to some confusion.

That night, Ron came in from sitting second watch and lay down on the bottom bunk, bone-tired. And then he heard it, for the first time, he heard what Harry had been talking about. There was a low moan from the other side of the tent. The moan was followed by breathy little sounds that made him seriously consider casting a muffling charm around his bunk, but then the sounds changed from something decidedly erotic to something more distressing. She groaned and then started saying 'no,' at first softly and then louder, followed by a begging 'please.'

"Hermione," Ron ventured. She cried out and he popped up so quickly he banged his head on the upper bunk. He held his forehead but got to his feet. Harry was already coming back into the tent. By the time Ron had come out from behind the curtain, Hermione was standing in the middle of the sitting room, her wand up and clenched in her hand. She was wild-eyed and trembling all over.

"Hermione," Harry said soothingly. "Hey, Hermione, look at me." She glanced at him. "You're alright," he said. "How about lower your wand?"

Hermione glanced at Ron and a tear slid down her cheek.

"Sit down," Ron said. "I'll get you some cocoa."

Hermione took a seat on the sofa and pulled her knees up to her chin. When Ron came back with the hot chocolate, Harry was still standing there looking at her. "You want to talk about it?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, still trembling.

Ron set the cocoa on the coffee table in front of her. "We'll just let that cool a bit." He looked at Harry.

"I should get back outside," Harry said.

"Yeah, alright." Ron pulled the throw off the back of the sofa and settled it over Hermione, hoping to stop the trembling, so she could hold the mug without spilling. She didn't say anything so he took the opposite corner of the sofa and just sat with her.

After what seemed like a long time, she put her knees down and reached for the cocoa. Ron had started to doze off, but her movements brought him fully awake again. He sat up straighter. She took a sip. "Thanks for this."

"Anytime," Ron said. "Feeling better?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"You didn't," he said. "I'd just come in."

"Good," she said, but her cheeks colored. They sat in silence for a few more minutes while she finished her hot chocolate. "We should go back to bed," she said. "Neither of us has had enough sleep."

Ron smiled. "Right. Good idea." They stood and went to their separate bunks. Ron sighed. She'd said, _we should go back to bed_ , as if they were going to the same bed. He wished they were. His bunk was cold and even though he'd cast a warming charm on his sleeping bag, it would be so much better to be snuggled up next to her for warmth. He wanted desperately to run his hand along that strip of skin above her pajama bottoms. He wanted to see her topless like the page three lady. He sighed again. She was only just starting to speak to him, and even so, it wasn't much, nothing like the long conversations they used to have, nothing like the playful banter they'd engaged in at the end of sixth year. He thought of her dancing with Krum at Bill and Fleur's wedding, how easily they'd moved together. He grimaced at his own clumsy dancing, although she hadn't complained. When this war was over, he was going to learn to dance properly. Fred and George were good dancers. They could probably teach him some moves. He lay down, trying not to remember the way she'd felt in his arms at the wedding, but it was pointless, as virtually every time he'd ever touched her ran through his mind on an endless loop, interspersed with all the ways he'd like to touch her in the future, if they could ever get back to where they were before that bloody locket and his own insecurities had wrecked everything.

xXx

The next day, Harry was reading _The Daily Mirror_ and laughed.

"What?" Hermione said, looking up from the large _Times_ crossword.

"Oh, nothing, it's a stupid dating quiz," Harry said.

Ron snorted, "Like any of us would have much to say."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him. "You presume a lot."

"What?" Ron said, looking at her. "Harry dated Cho for like ten minutes and then Ginny last year. I dated Lavender and that was horrible. And you dated Krum three years ago."

Hermione got to her feet. "You'd do well to remember, Ron, I live in two worlds and you only know about one of them." She stormed out of the tent.

Ron looked agape at Harry. "What's she saying? She dates Muggles over hols?"

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"No, she doesn't," Ron scoffed. "Why would she? A witch as powerful as her, no way."

Harry shrugged. "Why not?"

Ron shook his head. "What could they possibly have in common?"

Harry scoffed. "What did you and Lavender have in common? It's not always about that, is it? Hermione can be quite lush when she wants. It's not hard to see why a bloke would chat her up. McLaggen did."

Ron's mouth dropped open. He shook his head. "I forgot about him. Maybe he was who she was talking about and not Muggles at all."

"If you say so," Harry said and resumed reading.

Ron sat quietly for a while, but he couldn't stop thinking about the possibility that Hermione dated Muggles when she was at home. "How many Muggles do you suppose she's gone out with?"

Harry looked up from his paper. "How would I know? You'd have to ask her. Not that I would recommend that," he amended.

"No," Ron agreed. "I can't do that." They sat in silence for a minute before Ron said, "I've heard Muggle girls are quite fast. Do you think that's true?"

"Are you asking if I think Hermione is fast?" Harry said.

"No!" Ron said. "Absolutely not. I'm just asking if what I heard was true."

Harry snorted. "Again, how would I know? I've never dated a Muggle girl, but I suspect they're a lot like witches. Some of them are fast and some of them are slow. Come to think of it, blokes are like that too."

"Right," Ron said. "Right."

"What's got into you tonight?" Harry said.

Ron sighed as he stared at the tent flap as if he could see Hermione through the canvas. "I just…hate this bloody war."

Rain started to patter against the canvas.

"Oh, great," Harry said sarcastically. "Just what we need, more rain."

Ron continued looking at the tent flap, waiting for Hermione to reappear, but she didn't. "Where is she?" he said, getting to his feet. The rain began falling harder. "Why hasn't she come back in?" He stuck his head out of the tent flap. Hermione was standing at the edge of their magical wards with her arms wrapped around her. She hadn't bothered to cast an umbrella charm. She was getting soaked. He was walking toward her before he knew what he was going to say. He settled on, "What are you doing?" as he came up behind her.

"Nothing," she said. "Go back inside. I'll be in in a minute."

He could hear in her voice that she'd been crying, but he couldn't sort out why. "But it's pissing down out here."

"Then you should get inside," she growled.

"Hermione," he went to touch her shoulder but she flinched away from him.

"Don't," she said. "Don't touch me."

"I'm sorry," he said, not fully understanding why she was so upset but positive that it was his fault. "I'm really, really sorry."

This time she did turn around and the agony in her face broke his heart. "Then just go inside, please," she said, and walked away from him to the back of the tent.

He stood watching her walk until she disappeared behind the pitched canvas roof. Part of him felt like he should stand out here as long as she did, to show penitence, or solidarity, something, but then he decided to just do as she'd asked. He figured she'd prefer that.

When Ron stepped back into the tent, Harry looked up at him. "Where's Hermione?"

"She's not ready to come in yet," Ron said, peeling off his wet jumper and pulling out his wand to cast a drying charm.

"Please don't tell me you went out there and rowed with her," Harry said with a sigh.

"Of course, I didn't. I'm not completely mad. But she is crying and I don't rightly know why, but I know it's my fault. What did I say?"

Harry shrugged, and scratched at the stubble on his cheek. Ron noticed Harry's beard was a lot thicker than it used to be. "Maybe it was the dating thing."

"Well, yeah, obviously but what did I say that was wrong?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm not sure. Maybe she just didn't like that you assumed you knew everyone she'd ever gone out with."

"That bothered her enough to make her stand in the rain crying?" Ron said, dumbfounded. "That doesn't sound like her."

Harry sighed. "I told you, she's been different since you left. Not quite as confident. You probably just hurt her feelings."

"How? Just because I didn't know she'd dated other blokes, how is that that hurtful?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe she thinks you don't think she rates a date."

Ron's mouth dropped open. "That's mad. She can't think that." He looked at the tent flap. "She's…I mean…she's just…well, as you said, she's quite…oh bollocks."

"Did that make sense in your head?" Harry asked. "Because nothing that actually came out of your mouth made sense."

Ron looked at the tent flap again. "How am I supposed to fix this?"

"I don't know, mate. We might not even have the right cause. Perhaps she's just crying because she misses her parents and talking about things that happened over hols reminded her of them."

Ron shook his head. "You didn't see her out there. This is definitely something to do with me."

"Is there anything for lunch?" Harry asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Leftover beans, I'll go heat them up." Ron said, still staring at the tent flap.

"I can do it," Harry said.

"Nah," Ron said. "I need something to do anyway." He went into the kitchen and put the leftover beans on the stove and lit it. Then he peeled and chopped one of the fresh onions. "I hate this weather," he said. "Fishing is no good. Rabbits stay in their warrens and you can't see ducks."

"Yeah," Harry said. "There's pretty much nothing good about it." He set the table with plates and then filled three tumblers with water from his wand.

Ron stirred the beans and put a bowl of chopped onions in the center of the table. "You want to go tell her lunch is ready?" he asked Harry.

But the tent flap opened and Hermione stepped inside, looking very much like someone had tried to drown her.

"Drying charm?" Harry asked.

"I think I'm beyond that," she said. "I'm just going to go change."

Ron tried not to imagine what was going on behind her curtain as he could hear wet clothes hit the floor. He stirred the beans again. "Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath.

Harry gave him a sympathetic look as he took a seat.

Ron set the pot of beans on the table and sat across from Harry. "Soups on," he said to Hermione's curtain.

She came out a moment later and sat down. She was in jeans, and a blue plaid flannel shirt. She'd clearly done a drying charm on her hair, but it was still damp. She sniffed her sleeve. "I wish this bloody rain would stop," she said. "We need to do proper laundry. All our clothes are way past cleaning charms. I feel like everything is starting to be a bit musty like mold."

Ron was still trying to recover from her cursing.

Harry put a ladle full of beans on his plate. "Yeah, I've noticed that as well. Not much we can do about the weather though."


	6. Laundry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gesture of kindness is misinterpreted.

It rained for the rest of the day and into the night. Hermione said very little after commenting on the need to do laundry. Harry was back to playing with the Snitch Dumbledore had left him and Ron felt like he might lose his mind. They were going absolutely nowhere. No one had a good idea for where to find another Horcrux, Harry seemed to have completely lost focus, and for every step forward Ron made toward repairing things with Hermione, he felt like he took two steps back. He sighed and picked up one of the newspapers that he hadn't read yet. Harry said his uncle had proclaimed _The Times_ to be the only paper worth reading, but that Dudley and his aunt loved the tabloids, which is what he called the other papers. Ron couldn't make much sense out of any of them. He didn't know any of the people featured. He still didn't understand why there were so many topless ladies and many of the products being advertised seemed quite mad. He gave it up as a bad job and picked up a book on fighting the dark arts instead. At least it made sense, although many of the spells were quite challenging.

He looked over at Hermione who was back to reading Beedle the Bard. He couldn't understand how she could read the same simple book over and over, but he was grateful for her powers of concentration, because it afforded him the opportunity to watch her if he was subtle about it. She was sitting sideways in the chair with her knees drawn up and her feet braced against the arm with her toes curled against it. He marveled that she wasn't wearing socks, because the room was a bit damp and chilly, despite the fire in the stove. As he watched she would occasionally flex her toes, and it made him want to leap across the room, nibble on them, and then work his way up her legs. He shook his head. His imagination was getting away from him. He tried to refocus on the book instead. After reading for a few minutes, he risked another peek. Her jeans and shirt, like all of her clothes now, were baggy, but instead of the shapelessness of her outfits making her less attractive, the clothes kept slipping in ways they never had before, revealing unintentional skin and glimpses of silky underthings. He found himself glued to the possibility that some strip of skin or piece of silk he'd never seen before might suddenly be revealed as she leaned over or conversely reached up for something, or as she was currently doing, shifted in a chair. Her jeans slid lower and her shirt bunched up a bit and there was the small of her back, mostly hidden against the chair, but just visible. Ron had had his hand there a couple of times ushering her into a room or hurrying her out of one, but he'd never had his hand against the bare skin of her lower back and he found himself desperate to know what that felt like. He also couldn't help noticing that her knickers were yellow today, not pale yellow, but a rich golden color like summer honey. He closed his eyes because he'd been staring and she was going to catch him out if he didn't stop. He heard her get up and opened his eyes to find her yawning and holding the waistband of her jeans. It occurred to him that she did that a lot. "Do you not have a belt?" he asked.

She looked at him. "No. I forgot to bring one. I don't wear one very often, but I could certainly use one now."

Ron stood and began pulling his own belt out of its loops. "You can have mine."

"What? No. You need it."

"Not really. I'm well-fed, remember? Meanwhile, your pants are literally falling off."

A blush crossed her features and she took the belt. "Right. Thanks," she said without looking at him. "I think I'll try and get in a couple hours sleep before it's my turn at watch."

Ron nodded. "Night then." He watched as she stepped behind the curtain that separated her bed from the room. He felt good about what he'd done there. He was looking out for her. She was bound to appreciate that.

xXx

The next day was clear but very cold.

"This is probably as good as we're going to get for a while," Hermione said as she dragged out the large laundry tub and began filling it with her wand. When it was half full, she cast a heating charm before adding soap and charming the water to agitate. She began pulling clothes from her beaded bag and dropping them in the tub.

"If you don't need any help, I'm going to go set snares at that big rabbit warren we saw when we were setting up camp."

"Go ahead," Hermione told him, "but glamor first, I know it's not likely you'll run into any Snatchers in an area this remote, but best to be cautious."

"Right," Ron said and cast the charm to make his hair and stubble brown. "Did I get everything?"

Hermione looked up from the bag. "Yeah, that's got it."

Harry was coming in as Ron was going out. "Going to set snares," Ron said.

"Need any help?" Harry asked.

"Nah, but Hermione's going to need help with the clothes once they're done washing."

"Alright," Harry said. "Good luck with the rabbits."

Ron held up crossed fingers and went on his way.

xXx

When Hermione had filled the tub with clothes, she cast another agitation charm and asked Harry to string clothes line in the tent because the clothes would freeze if they tried to dry them outside.

Harry used the blackthorn wand to cast a string charm, crossing the tent several times with line.

"These clothes are so gross," Hermione said. When she felt like they were sufficiently clean, she plucked out each item and held it up for Harry to cast a wringing charm and then she hung it on the line to finish drying. They could have cast charms to dry the clothes completely, but that would have been a lot of effort, and they just didn't have enough to eat to justify the outlay of magical energy. There was a reason that Hogwarts served a feast at every meal, magic burned a tremendous number of calories, so the three of them had to be mindful of how much they used magic in these lean times.

When the first load was complete, they dragged the tub outside, dumped the water, and did the whole process again two more times until everything was clean. When they brought the tub in the last time, Hermione surprised Harry by taking it into her room instead of putting it away. He could hear her refill it and then cast a line charm in her room.

"You want some tea?" he called to her.

"Sure, I'll be out in a minute."

When she hadn't returned to the sitting room by the time the tea was ready, Harry took her mug to her. "Oh," he said, as he stepped behind the curtain into her room. All of her underwear was hung up to dry. There were lovely matching sets of bras and knickers. Harry had seen Ginny's underwear a few times but it was nothing like this. Ginny wore simple cotton in whites and blues and tans, all of which looked smashing on her, and even better on the floor.

"Not a word," Hermione growled at him as she took the mug of tea he offered.

"To who? Ron?"

"No," Hermione said sarcastically. "The fifty other people we see every day."

Harry grinned at her. "I wouldn't tell Ron about this. He's having enough trouble holding it together. I reckon this would send him right off the deep end."

Hermione snorted. "As if."

"What?" Harry said, raising his eyebrows.

"Ron doesn't think about me like that."

It was Harry's turn to snort.

"Oh, please," Hermione said. "He can't imagine that anyone has asked me out in the last three years and then he gave me his belt because he's tired of seeing my pants fall down."

"You've got it wrong," Harry said, reaching for a shiny pair of emerald green knickers. "And I assure you, he would love—"

Hermione slapped his hand. "Don't touch!"

Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement.

"Get out of here," she said, with the slightest of smiles.

xXx

Ron stepped into the tent to the distinctive sound of a slap followed by Hermione saying, "Don't touch!" The tent was covered in clothesline and hanging clothes, he pushed past them to see Harry stepping out from behind Hermione's curtain with an amused look on his face. Ron scowled at him. "What was that about?"

"Nothing," Harry said. "I took her a cup of tea." She'll be out in a tic. How'd the snares go?"

"Fine," Ron said, glancing at the curtain. "I set four. It's a big warren."

"Great," Harry said. "Maybe we'll luck out and have rabbit for dinner." Harry pulled himself on to the top bunk, seemingly unconcerned about anything that had transpired between him and Hermione.

Ron sat down on the sofa and tried to puzzle out what had just happened. What had Harry touched? Surely, he wouldn't get fresh with her with Ron just outside. Not Harry. If they had gotten together while he gone, he was sure it was just for comfort. But Harry knew how he felt about her. Surely, he wouldn't try to get it on with her now, but why had she slapped him? His face didn't look slapped, but perhaps he'd cast a charm to cover that. Hanging trousers blocked Ron's view of the curtain but he looked that way anyway. He felt very unsettled about all of this.

A moment later, Hermione was dragging the laundry tub out from behind her curtain. Ron rose to help her and she dropped the curtain back into place.

"I'll get that," Ron said, and picked up the heavy tub and took it outside to dump it.

When he came back inside, Hermione was adding wood to the stove. "We need it warmer in here," she explained. "Or it'll take forever for the clothes to dry."

He stood there staring at her, trying to decide what had happened between her and Harry.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yeah," Ron said.

"You must be cold, I'll get you a cup of tea," she said.

"Yeah, thanks." He held out his hands to the stove. He was cold and she'd noticed. That was refreshing. And she'd offered to make him tea, which he was fairly certain, was the first time she'd done that since he'd gotten back.


	7. Ice

That night, Ron had third watch and had intended to go to bed but dozed off on the sofa instead. A crash woke him. He opened his eyes and heard a steady pattering against the canvas tent. He sat up and wiped a hand down his face as he got to his feet. Hermione stuck her head in through the tent flap. "Good, you're up," she said. "Cast reinforcing charms on the roof. The ice is really coming down now and branches are starting to fall." She popped back out of the tent.

"Harry!" Ron shouted as he pulled his wand. "Harry!" He cast the first charm on the tent roof.

Harry came out from behind the curtain that hid their bunks. The Blackthorn wand was already in his hand. "What?"

"Cast reinforcement charms on the tent roof. Branches are coming down outside." Ron cast another. He could hear Harry working at the other end of the tent. The ice was falling harder now and he started to worry about the weight of it on the roof. He cast a heating charm on the canvas to melt some of it. He called for Harry to do the same. It took ten minutes to finish the charms. Hermione came inside. Harry lit a lamp when he came back into the sitting area, flooding the room with light and Hermione shimmered, covered with a layer of ice. Her lips were a disturbing shade of blue. "Bloody hell!" Ron said and went to help her. She was shivering so badly she couldn't get her mittens off. "Hold out your hands." He pulled off her mittens. "Harry get her some cocoa," Ron said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. He started unbuttoning Hermione's coat. "Why didn't you tell me you needed help outside?"

"I needed help inside," she said through chattering teeth. "Have to reinforce both or it won't work." He cast a warming charm on her that seemed to do nothing but melt the ice in her hair. Her jumper was dry, but her jeans were soaked. "I have to change."

"Sit down on the sofa," Ron said. "I'll get your boots off." He had a hard time with the laces. The knot was iced over. He cast another warming charm to melt it, and pulled them off along with her socks. He was glad he'd managed to get two rabbits for dinner, or he wouldn't have had the energy for all this.

Harry came in with the cocoa.

"I don't think she can manage it yet," Ron said. "Come on, stand up. Harry go get her some pajama bottoms, the blue fleece ones. And some wool socks." He reached for the buckle of his own belt which was holding up her jeans and Hermione's eyes went wide. "I'm sorry," he said. "But we've got to get these off of you."

She nodded, her teeth still chattering. Her whole body was shivering violently. The jeans slipped off easily without so much as stirring her knickers, which he noticed were a light purple color and sported a tiny bow on the band. He blew out a calming breath. He felt like he'd been running. Harry reappeared from behind Hermione's curtain and handed him the pajama pants. She was still shivering but not quite so violently. He leaned down and held the waistband open so she could stick a leg in. She rested her hand on his shoulder for support and then shifted her weight to put the other leg in and he pulled them up for her. Harry handed him the socks and he carefully put them on her, noting the icy cold of her feet. He cast another warming charm. She closed her eyes. "Harry go grab my sleeping bag and cast a warming charm on it."

Ron held the cocoa up for her. She took it in shaking hands, but he kept a hand on to steady it. She took a sip. Harry put Ron's sleeping bag over her shoulders and she leaned forward so he could wrap it around her. When Ron felt like her hands were steady enough to hold on to the mug, he started vigorously rubbing her calves and feet. Hermione watched him but didn't say anything.

Harry stuck his head through the tent flap for a few seconds and then pulled it back in. "I don't think there's any point in sitting watch outside. Not even Snatchers would come out in this."

"It's probably too remote up here for them anyway. They like to stay near towns and villages where they have a higher chance of running across Muggleborns and blood traitors," Ron added.

Harry nodded.

"It's about time for my watch anyway. I'll just stay out here," Ron said.

"Suit yourself," Harry said. "But I think it's safe to sleep. I'm going back to bed."

"Me too," Hermione said, getting to her feet and handing Ron his sleeping bag.

"No, you take it. It's warmer than just blankets. We should've gotten you one before we came out here."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, go on then. Just toss me one of your blankets."

She retreated behind her curtain wearing the sleeping bag like a cape. She came back out a moment later with two blankets.

"Thanks," Ron said.

She gave him a small smile. "Night then."

"Yeah," he said. "Night." He settled down on the sofa with her blankets, but they smelled like her and it was very distracting. He got up to make himself a cup of cocoa. He picked up a copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore that Hermione had left on the coffee table. He turned to the edible section. It was always a good idea to be able to spot something to eat. He'd been reading for a while when Hermione emerged from her room with the sleeping bag pulled over her and went into the kitchen area.

Ron pulled the blankets over his shoulders and followed her. "What's wrong? Why are you up?"

"I just can't get warm," she said, reaching for the kettle.

Ron took it from her. "I'll do it. You've expended too much magic already tonight."

She sighed but didn't argue and went to sit on the sofa burrowing into the sleeping bag. Ron brought her the cocoa and sat on the opposite end of the sofa. He desperately wanted to tell her to snuggle against him, that he would warm her up. He wanted to hold her, to offer her some reassurance along with his body heat, but he hadn't earned that right, and she gave no sign of wanting him any closer than he was.

xXx

The next day was clear and warmer. By noon, all the ice had melted and Hermione returned to Beedle the Bard, while Harry fooled with the Snitch, and Ron set snares for rabbits and went to see if there were any ducks on a pond they'd passed a couple of days ago. When he returned to the tent, Hermione came in and tried to convince Harry that they should go see Xenophilius Lovegood, and even though he had a bad feeling about it, Ron supported her.


	8. Part II: After Lovegood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blowing up houses and skinning rabbits. Is that the same?

It took a while for the three of them to calm down after their narrow escape from Death Eaters at the Lovegood's house. Now that the initial flurry of activity was over, and the adrenaline had burned off, they all sat in stunned silence staring at the floor. Harry was now fixated on the Deathly Hallows. Hermione was still fretting over the fate of Luna and her father, and Ron still couldn't believe her presence of mind to not just get them out of there, but to make sure she and Harry were seen, but he was not. She didn't just save the three of them. She thought to keep his whole family safe as well. He felt tears threaten and stood abruptly.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," he said hoarsely. "I'm just going to have a look around for rabbit warrens and fishing spots."

"Right," Hermione said. "I know it's remote up here, but do a glamor charm anyway. Be careful."

"Yeah," Ron said and stepped out of the tent. He cast the charm to turn his hair and stubble brown and cast another to open their wards and then carefully reconstructed them behind him, making note of exactly where he was, so he could find the tent again as he started off in ever widening circles around it. He thought again of Hermione's actions at the Lovegood's and a tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped it away in irritation. She was brilliant. She was always brilliant, always thought fast on her feet. He knew what she would say if he said anything though. She would say, "yes, I'm quite quick to save my own skin," but it was more than that. Thinking to throw the cloak over only him was about saving his family from being caught lying about him having Spattergroit. She loved him. She loved his whole bloody family and he'd ruined it. He couldn't understand, now with the distance of months, how he ever could have walked away from her. When she'd cried his name and begged him not to leave, why the bloody hell had he not just turned around? He should have thrown down his rucksack and picked up her, held her in his arms, and just told her how he felt, how he'd felt for ages. He stopped his circling and sat on a large outcropping boulder. He ran his fingers back through his hair and cried in earnest. He'd buggered up everything and now he was blubbering like a baby. The real surprise, he supposed, was that she'd ever wanted him in the first place. He sighed and wiped his face on his sleeve and resumed looking for a rabbit warren since it didn't look like she'd brought them anywhere near water.

It was late when he got back to the tent, but he was carrying three rabbits. He'd found a large warren a good distance away from the tent and he didn't want to set the snares only to have to walk all the way back, so he'd found a quiet spot out of sight of the warren and waited. He wasn't disappointed. He opened a hole in the wards to find Hermione pacing back and forth in front of the fire.

"Where have you been?" she cried. "It's been ages. It's almost dark."

"I'm sorry," Ron said contritely as he turned around to close the wards. "I wanted to get us a good dinner after we used so much magic today, but the warren was pretty far away." When he turned back around, he realized she was on the verge of tears. "Hey," he said. "I really am sorry."

She opened her mouth to say something, but turned around to go back to the tent instead.

Ron had a moment of absolute clarity and said, "Hermione, please."

She stopped and turned slowly back around.

He dropped the rabbits and closed the distance between them. "I really am sorry. I just—"

She hugged him, and he thought his heart might explode right out of his chest, as he put his arms around her. It had been months, months, since she'd hugged him. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed it until she was back in his arms, her head against his shoulder. She didn't press her face to his neck, that would have been too much to hope for, but since she faced away from him, it allowed him the freedom to sink his nose into her hair, to feel all those curls against his face. He hugged her back and held her until he felt her start to loosen her grip. He let go. She stepped back from him and wiped her face with her hand.

"Sorry," she said. "It's been a trying day and I was worried when you didn't come back."

"I didn't mean to worry you. But," he said, retrieving the rabbits from the ground. "I'll try and make it up to you with dinner."

She smiled and wiped her face again. "Do you mind if I watch you make the stew?"

"Not at all," he said, smiling back.

"Good," she said. "Cooking seems like the sort of thing one should learn to do, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "Always good to be able to feed yourself."

"Right," Hermione said.

"How about fetch me a pan, and I'll just get these cleaned then."

She bit her lip. "Actually, I should probably learn those spells too."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really?"

"I just destroyed Luna's house," she said grimly. "It's no time to be squeamish about skinning a few rabbits."

"Right," Ron said. "About that, when did you learn that spell?"

"I used it once before in Godric's Hollow?" she said, her eyes shifting away from him. "That's how Harry's wand got broken."

"Oh," Ron said quietly.

"I know, stupid, dangerous. I just couldn't think what else to do."

Ron was even more impressed than he had been before. He grinned at her, "Well, you certainly pulled a blinder there. Bloody hell, Hermione." The blush that crossed her cheeks delighted him. "But seriously," he said, "I reckon Harry and I both ought to know that one too."

"Harry already knows it," she said. "He used it when we went to get him from his aunt and uncle's house."

"Well, I should learn it then. Seems like a good blasting spell would be right useful in a war."

She nodded. "Actually, he and I should probably practice it too. It's dangerous. The more control you have, the better."

Ron cast Accio for a pan and showed her how to skin the rabbits and was impressed when she cast the spell to take the head off the last rabbit and skin it, although the effort left her a bit green. "Well," Ron said, casting the spell to cut the rabbits each into six pieces. "Now that you know how, I don't see that you need to do that again, eh?"

"Maybe not," Hermione said.

He smiled at her. "You're bloody amazing, you know that, right?"

She shrugged. "I'm clever enough, I suppose."

He shook his head. "You're a damn sight more than just clever and you know it." He picked up the pan full of rabbit pieces and she followed him inside.


	9. Ron Takes Charge

For the next few days, Hermione cooked alongside Ron. During meals, she commented that Harry should learn some cooking skills as well. Harry eventually took the hint and started following along until all of them had the same basic skills and then Harry and Hermione began taking their turns cooking. Ron found himself with more time on his hands, so he started going through Hermione's notes. He didn't expect to find anything she hadn't thought about, but he felt like they needed some direction. With Harry staunchly in the Hallows camp and Hermione equally in the Horcrux camp, they were stuck in a stalemate. Ron didn't know which was the better option, but he knew they had to keep trying. He decided to start making location choices. Just because the other two were stuck in trenches didn't mean he had to be. He figured that eventually they'd get so sick of his plans, that they would come up with some of their own.

Hermione was making dinner, so he pulled out the maps and started going over her notes of where they'd already been. He cut a piece of parchment and found a quill and ink so he could start making his own notes.

Hermione came over and handed him a cup of tea before sitting on the opposite end of the sofa. "The rice is done, so I left it with a charm to keep it warm, but the beans have to boil a bit longer. What are you doing?"

"Making some notes on where we should go," Ron said. He glanced to the pulled back curtain that revealed the bunks he and Harry slept in. Harry's feet were visible on the top bunk. He didn't seem to hear Ron, or if he did, he didn't care.

"There are loads of magical places we haven't been yet. Some of them might be significant. We need to start checking them."

Hermione nodded and sipped her tea. "That makes sense."

"We also need to be more methodical about where we go," Ron continued. "Do a grid system or something, so you're not burning so much energy jumping us from one end of the country to the next all the time." He was frustrated that while he seemed to have halted Harry and Hermione from losing any more weight, he hadn't managed to put any back on either one of them. Harry just didn't seem interested in eating lately, and the burden of Apparating all three of them every time they moved was a tremendous drain on Hermione.

She pursed her lips as though she were considering his words. He continued consulting the map and making notes, but kept sneaking glances at her. She was watching him work as she sipped her tea and it gave him a little thrill. She didn't even seem to care that he might see her watching. He couldn't help wondering about her boldness, but perhaps it wasn't boldness, because she didn't look at him like that anymore. Perhaps, she was just watching because there was nothing else to look at, nothing new to read, nothing to do. The biggest problem with life on the run was that it was dead boring. He sighed and sat back against the sofa.

"The other thing we need to do is practice those blasting spells. I'm just not sure where the safest place to do that is."

"What about Boreray Island?" Hermione suggested.

"Where?"

"In the Outer Hebrides. It's uninhabited."

"You can get us there?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I haven't been on it, but I've been by it on a boat."

"Why?" Ron said.

Hermione shrugged. "My parents like boat tours."

"Seriously?" Ron said. "Just any old boat tour."

Hermione smiled. "I don't know about any old tour, but we did do a lot of them. They just really enjoy being on the water."

"Oh," Ron said. "Well, boats are nice, I suppose."

"Sure," she said.

"But you think this island will work though," Ron asked.

Hermione nodded and continued reading.

Ron smiled. He was so happy to be able to casually chat with her like this again. Nothing like a life or death situation to bring folks together, he reckoned.

Hermione stood. "I'll finish up dinner." She looked at where Harry still lay in his bunk. "See if you can get him to come to the table," she whispered.

Ron nodded and got to his feet. Harry was lying on his back staring at the canvas ceiling of the tent rolling the Snitch between his fingers. "You alright?" Ron asked. "You've been in bed most of the day."

"I'm fine," Harry said, as he always did whenever Ron or Hermione asked after him. "Just thought I'd get some rest. I've got first watch, although, I think I should take Hermione's too. She seems really run down. I think we might be moving around too much."

Ron frowned. He knew what Harry was doing. He always invoked Hermione when he wanted to deflect Ron's attention. Despite that, there was some truth in what he was saying. "You're right," Ron said, "but we'll split her shift and give her the night off."

"Yeah, alright," Harry said.

"Come help me set the table," Ron said. "Dinner is almost ready."

"Okay," Harry said, but didn't move.

Ron stood there until Harry actually got off his bunk and then they both went to set the table, which took all of ten seconds and was in no way a two-person job. Hermione set beans and rice and the last of the chopped fresh onion on the table while Ron filled the tumblers with his wand. They all sat down and began ladling food into their bowls.

"So," Ron said. "I was thinking we should practice that blasting spell Hermione used to get us out of Luna's house."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, that's a good one."

"Actually," Ron continued. "I was thinking, it's been a while since we practiced defensive magic in general, so practice is probably a good idea all the way around."

"What are we going to do about food though?" Hermione asked. "You're talking about a tremendous outlay of magic."

Ron nodded. "Right. I don't know where we are on Muggle money, but if we can't splurge at a market, we'll have to catch a lot of fish or something."

"We'll likely have to do both," Hermione said. "We can splurge some, but repeatedly casting charms to keep food fresh is part of the problem."

"I know," Ron nodded.

"I suppose we could get bags of trail mix, and maybe a few steaks just for the first night, some bacon maybe. We're due for a supply run anyway. It's a small island, so we can fish there."

"Sounds like a plan," Harry said, but in that listless way he had lately.

Ron clapped his hands together, trying to perk up the other two. "Great. We should go to the market tonight then."

"Sure," Hermione said.

"Good," Harry said, and got up from the table.

Ron leaned over and looked in his bowl. At least he'd eaten everything, but Ron would have been happier if he'd put more in it to begin with or gotten a second portion. Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile. "He needs to eat more," Ron said. "You both do."

"I know," Hermione said. "But it's difficult with all the stress. I just wish we were on the same page. I don't like feeling on the outs with him."

"I know," Ron said. "He'll come around. He just needs a bit of time."

xXx

They waited until the shops had closed before venturing into the nearby village. They weren't familiar with the area, so they went up a hill above town and looked down with a pair of Omnioculars until Hermione spotted a small market.

"It's lucky you're Muggleborn and know all this stuff," Ron said.

"Except for the part where I'm number two on the Ministry's Most Undesirable List," she said dryly.

"Yeah," Ron said, feeling his face go hot. "Except that."

"And the part where the Death Eaters want all Muggleborns dead," she added.

"Right," Ron said, kicking himself for being so stupid.

She nudged him with her shoulder. "Hey."

He looked down at her.

"I am lucky. I'm not dead. My parents are safe. Harry is going to defeat that monster and you and I are going to be there to see it. The Death Eaters will go to Azkaban and then we're going to rebuild our world and it'll be better than it was before."

Ron nodded. "Right. Exactly what I was thinking."

She smiled at him and he smiled back.

"Go on then," she said. "The food isn't going to put itself in my bag." She took his arm and Disapparated and they appeared in the alley behind the market.

Their shopping list was much the same as last time only with the addition of three steaks, bacon, and several bags of trail mix. As Hermione was putting money next to the till, she noticed Ron make a face.

"I know you think it's ridiculous that I pay for what we take, but if I don't, then we're taking advantage of Muggles too. Is that the side you want to be on?"

"Course not," Ron grumbled. "But desperate times, Hermione."

"I'm not desperate enough to steal yet. It may come to that, but not yet, and I'd rather not get there. This is all the money I have in the world, Ron. It needs to last, because if by some miracle we survive, it's all I have to live on until I can manage to get a job, which might be tricky seeing as how I didn't graduate."

As they started for the door, Ron said. "First off, loads of people don't get their N.E.W.T.s and do just fine for work. Second, it's not like you're going to be on the street starving to death. You know Mum and Dad—"

"Right, because what they need is another mouth to feed." She shook her head. "I couldn't do that."

As they stepped into the alley and she turned to take his arm, he took her hand instead and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Just to be perfectly clear," Ron said firmly. "You will not, under any circumstances, be on your own to fend for yourself. Ever." She looked up at him, her eyes darting over his face, as if she were searching for something. He knew she wanted to believe him, but there was doubt, and that was his fault. He laced his fingers through hers and squeezed again, not too hard, but firmly. "I'm serious," he said.

"We should go," she whispered and raised her wand.

He felt the familiar pressure of Apparition.

xXx

That night, as Ron lay in his bunk, his belly full of steak and potatoes, he rolled to stare at the curtain as if he could see past it, the sitting room, and Hermione's curtain, to see her. 'All the money I have in the world,' she'd said. He couldn't help wondering how much that was. He tried to think what they must've spent so far, but was embarrassed to realize he'd never bothered to pay attention to what things cost or how much Muggle money she was putting down or even to what that converted to in Galleons. It really dawned on him then what sending her parents to Australia with altered memories had really cost her. She'd cut herself off from any means of support. Hermione didn't have a huge family like he did. It was just the three of them and now it was only her. He thought about what that must be like. He couldn't imagine not having his family to go back to. What would he have done, when he stormed off in the middle of the night, if he hadn't been able to run to Bill? He'd always been a bit jealous of Harry and Hermione's easy access to money. Neither one of them were exactly spendthrifts, but the whole time they were at school, if either of them saw something they wanted, they bought it. For Hermione, that mostly meant books. For Harry, more often it was food. These days, Harry was cut off from accessing his funds in Gringott's, and if Hermione had any money in the Goblin bank, she couldn't get to it either, and now she was basically funding this whole trip with whatever Muggle money she had. He felt a new level of guilt for ever leaving and really lucky that he had such a large family.


	10. Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Defensive magic is practiced with mixed results.

Early the next morning, they packed up and Disapparated to Boreray Island. Despite the fact that the island was uninhabited, Harry and Hermione set up wards over a much larger area than they usually did, just in case someone might be camping on the island. While they did that, Ron set up the tent and started breakfast. They'd brought wood with them since there wouldn't be much of anything to burn on the island.

"That smells fantastic," Harry said when he and Hermione came in. They both dropped on to the sofa.

"It'll be ready in a tic," Ron said. Hermione had gathered mushrooms yesterday. He tossed them into the bacon grease to fry. When the mushrooms were done, he fried the eggs. "One of you pour the tea," he said.

Hermione got to her feet and took care of the tea while Harry set the table. A few minutes later they were all happily tucked in to a full breakfast.

"This is so good," Harry said, stuffing bacon into his mouth. "Why can't we eat like this all the time?"

Ron looked at Hermione, but she didn't say anything and glanced away. "Because it's ridiculously expensive," he said. "And we only have so much money and who knows how long we might need it to last."

"Right," Harry said, sighing.

xXx

After breakfast they went outside to practice offensive and defensive spell work. They started with the blasting spell. Hermione went first, blasting a large crater into the ground.

"Now you, Ron," she said.

Ron stepped forward and raised his wand, making sure he had the hand position right. He cast the spell and a much smaller crater appeared.

"Good," Hermione said. "Give it another go."

He tried again and blasted a larger hole. "One more time," he said. This time he concentrated on the size of the blast and blew a crater as large as Hermione's had been. He stepped back, pleased. "Now you, Harry."

Harry stepped forward and raised the blackthorn wand. He cast the spell and all three of them were knocked down. A huge amount of dirt, sod, and rocks blew skyward.

"Protego!" Hermione shouted and a shimmering dome appeared over the three of them as the debris fell down around them. When it was clear, she dropped the shield and they all lay there for a moment in stunned silence.

"Maybe went a bit hard on that, Harry," Ron said.

They all chuckled and got slowly to their feet checking for injuries. Hermione's cheek was bleeding. Ron had a cut on the back of his hand. Harry was unscathed.

"I'm really sorry," Harry said. "I just don't have the control with this wand that I had with my old one."

"Yeah," Ron said. "We can see that."

"I'll get the Dittany," Harry said.

"I've got it here," Hermione said, pulling the beaded bag from her coat pocket. She took out the small bottle. "Hold out your hand," she said to Ron. He did and she let a drop fall on to the gash on the back of his hand. Skin immediately began to grow over it.

He took the bottle from her. "Tilt your head." The cut was bleeding profusely as facial cuts usually do. He let a drop of Dittany fall and watched as the skin began to knit over the cut. "That's got it," he said, his voice hoarse from the cold and her proximity. He reached into his pocket and handed her a handkerchief to wipe the blood off her face.

"Thanks," she said, and stepped back.

"Right. Anytime," he said and handed the bottle back to her. "So, who's up for stunning sheep?"

"Yeah, alright then," Harry said.

As they all started for the side of the island where there were some sheep grazing, Ron groaned. "Bloody hell, do you two feel like you've been hit by a Bludger?"

Harry stretched his back. "We were all knocked back pretty hard."

"I don't fancy spending all day walking about with a bruised bum," Ron said, he turned his back to them and began unbuttoning his trousers. "One of you cast Episkey."

Harry looked at Hermione but she turned her back. He sighed and pulled his wand and cast Episkey on Ron whose bum was bright red from the fall. Ron pulled his trousers and underpants back up and turned around. "Who's next?"

"I'll go," Harry said, and dropped his trousers and underpants just far enough for Ron to cast the spell.

"Alright, Hermione, your turn," Ron said.

"I don't think so," she said tightly and resumed walking toward the sheep. Ron could tell by the way she was moving that she was just as bruised as they had been. "Don't be daft," he called toward her, but she kept walking. He looked at Harry. "Why is she is acting like that?"

Harry shrugged.

"I mean really," Ron said as they followed her. "She probably took a harder fall than we did. It's not as though she has any padding back there anymore."

"Ron," Harry said.

"What? She used to fill out those jeans quite nicely and now they'd fall off her if it weren't for my belt," Ron said crossly.

"Stop commenting on her weight," Harry hissed. "You're going to give her a complex."

"Well, she shouldn't be so bloody proud," Ron grumbled. "Besides, she does too much magic and doesn't eat enough. Neither of you do. I try and I try but I can't put weight back on either one of you."

Harry sighed.

xXx

The rest of the day continued in the same vein. After practicing stunning spells on sheep, they moved on to shield charms before taking a break for lunch. They'd gotten a loaf of bread at the market and Ron had cooked all the bacon that morning and used the extra for sandwiches. Hermione dug them out of her bag and they sat down next to an old abandoned croft, or at least Ron and Harry sat. Hermione, to Ron's endless irritation, remained standing. Dark clouds were beginning to roll in and the breeze had picked up.

"It looks like we're in for some nasty weather," Harry said, in an obvious attempt to diffuse the tension between the other two.

Ron couldn't stand it anymore. "Just let one of us heal you," he said to Hermione.

"I'm fine," she said tightly.

"Bollocks," Ron said. "If you're fine, why don't you sit down?"

"I'm fine," she repeated through clenched teeth.

"You can keep saying that but it's not going to make it true. You're being ridiculous," Ron said. "Perfect Hermione can't admit she needs help. How thick is that?"

Her face flushed crimson and she flung her sandwich at him, striking him on the chest. She turned and stormed off toward the tent, but as furious as she was, she still moved like she was hurting. "You're bloody impossible!" Ron shouted after her, but he took her sandwich that was still partially wrapped with only two bites out of it and carefully rewrapped it.

"That went well," Harry said.

"Shut it," Ron grumbled.

In an unspoken agreement, they gave Hermione enough time to get back to the tent before they set out. About halfway there, the sky opened up. They cast umbrella charms but the wind was whipping the rain in all directions and the charms were useless. They were soaking wet by the time they got back to the tent.

Ron pulled off his sodden jumper and looked at the curtain that separated Hermione's sleeping area from the rest of the tent. The curtain was closed, and there was absolutely no sound from that part of the tent, leading him to believe she'd cast a silencing charm, which meant she might be crying or possibly screaming expletives at him. Could be anything. He sighed and walked over to her curtain, he went to open it just a smidge to say her name and tell her he was sorry, but she'd sealed it. That was a very bad sign. He looked at Harry.

"Well, that's just great," Harry said crossly.

xXx

As the day wore on, Hermione didn't emerge. The rain came down in buckets and Harry resumed brooding over the Hallows and Ron picked up a spell book and flipped through it while vacillating between being angry at Hermione and angry at himself. He felt that it all boiled down to her being too bloody stubborn for her own good. When he had dinner on the table and she still didn't appear, he said to Harry, "This is ridiculous. You can smell through a silencing charm. You know she knows dinner is ready. She's got to be hungry. Not to mention, we could be dead out here and she wouldn't know it."

"She probably cast a one-way charm," Harry said.

Ron gaped at him. "Well, that's just rude!" he shouted at the curtain. "And way more magic to cast than a regular one, which is a stupid use of energy!" All he got in return was more silence.

"Brilliant," Harry said sarcastically.

"Just eat your dinner," Ron grumbled.

xXx

The rain finally let up enough that Harry felt like he should sit watch. Ron moped around for a bit in the sitting room, thinking Hermione might come out and shout at him once Harry had gone outside, but she remained sealed inside her room. His anger had almost completely collapsed into despair. They'd been going along so well and now he'd bollocksed it all up again. Typical. After waiting for an hour, he reluctantly went to bed and stared at the bottom of Harry's bunk until he finally fell asleep.

The dream was a good one, made all the more vivid for being somewhat based in real life. In it, he had just won the Quidditch match, but instead of Lavender kissing him in the common room, it had been Hermione and it was brilliant. Even better, she had taken his hand, as Lavender had done, and pulled him through the hallway looking for an empty classroom so they could snog in private, but instead of Lavender's lips, Hermione's lips were against his, Hermione was in his arms, and his heart soared. A cold breeze blew through the classroom and across his face. Ron opened his eyes and saw Hermione step out of the tent in her dressing gown.

xXx

When Hermione could finally hear Ron's breathing even out and grow heavy, so that she was sure he was asleep, she pulled on her dressing gown, dropped the charms around her room and eased out from behind the curtain. Her back and bum were killing her. She slipped through the tent flap to find Harry sitting watch in front of the fire.

"Help," she said quietly.

He sighed and got to his feet pulling his wand. Hermione lifted the back of her dressing gown. She hadn't bothered with knickers, since she knew she'd have to pull them down anyway. Ron's bum had only been red, but the bruise had had plenty of time to form on Hermione and she was black and blue from the small of her back to the top of her thighs. Harry cast Episkey and the bruises immediately started to fade. She sighed with relief and dropped her dressing gown back into place.

"Thank you," she said, turning around.

"You should've just let Ron heal you earlier," Harry said.

"I couldn't."

"Why not? I thought you guys were doing better. I thought you'd forgiven him," Harry said.

"I have. It's not about that," she said quietly.

"What's it about then?" Harry said, frustrated with her.

"Oh please, as if you don't know," she grumbled.

"Hermione—"

"It's not fair," she said angrily. "I get that he's not attracted to me, but he knows I fancied him. It's just cruel of him to keep commenting on my looks. I don't know why he has to be so mean. It's not as though," she waved her arms around, "all this is exactly helping me look my best."

Harry shook his head. "Hermione, you've got this wrong. He keeps commenting on your weight because he's worried about you. You work too hard. You don't eat enough. You're very thin."

"So are you," she snapped back. "I don't hear him commenting on how your jeans fit."

"That's just because he's been watching your bum for years now," Harry said in exasperation. He didn't understand how she could miss how barmy Ron was about her.

"Well, he should stop," she said, her voice cracking as tears threatened. "I put my cards on the table and we see how that worked out. He should keep his bloody opinions to himself."

"Okay, okay," Harry said, raising his hands to try and calm her down before she woke Ron. "Do you want me to say something to him?"

"No," she said. "I can handle it myself. Maybe the next time he decides to comment on how my clothes fit, I'll cast Mimblewimble and he won't ever be able to mention it again."

Harry grimaced. He knew she was quite capable of that curse and powerful enough to make it last a long time. He knew better than to argue with her when she was this upset. "Look, go back to bed, yeah? You don't have watch for hours yet."

She sighed. "Yeah. Thanks again."

"Any time," Harry said, and watched her go back inside.


	11. A New Plan

Ron lay in bed. He'd heard most of their conversation. When Hermione stepped back inside he narrowed his eyes to just slits and watched her walk into the kitchen. He was pleased that she came out carrying her sandwich from lunch. He'd rewrapped it and labeled it HG when they got back to the tent. He watched her carry it and a plastic tumbler into her room. From the way she moved, he could clearly see she'd gone outside to have Harry heal her. Again, he wondered what had gone on between them while he was gone, but possibly worse or at least just as bad, than the possibility that she and Harry might have slept together, was the realization that Hermione thought Ron didn't find her attractive, because he'd been so fixated on how thin she was, that he'd kept commenting on it. He could've kicked himself. Harry had told him to shut up, but he'd just kept banging on. Part of him wanted to leap up and tell her she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, but that would likely get him hexed given her current mood. No, he couldn't make some grand announcement or she'd know he'd overheard and think he was just trying to placate her. He had to pick his moment. He could fix this. He would fix this. He had to and step one was to never mention her weight again.

xXx

The next morning, everyone was up at the usual time. Hermione had had third watch the night before. She'd traded places with Ron without a word. The fact that she was up and moving around behind her curtain seemed like a good sign. They were out of bacon but still had eggs and bread, so he'd fried the eggs and slices of bread in the leftover bacon fat. Harry poured the tea and he and Ron had already sat down and started eating when Hermione came out of her room, braiding her hair as she walked.

"I hate my hair," she grumbled as she sat down.

"Why?" Ron asked around a mouthful of egg.

Harry looked at him like he'd lost his mind.

Misunderstanding Ron's question, Hermione answered. "It's all this humidity."

"I thought that just made it curlier," Ron said.

Harry raised his eyebrows. If eyebrows could speak, Harry's would have said, "Do shut up."

"Right," Hermione answered. "It's awful."

"No, it's not," Ron said. "I love all those curls. Your hair is great and it smells good too." He stood. "Well, that's me done. I'm going to go fishing for a couple of hours and see if I can catch lunch."

Hermione watched him leave the table with her mouth open. The tent flap closed behind him and she glared at Harry. "What did you say to him?"

"Nothing," Harry said.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I swear," Harry said, holding up his right hand. "Besides, you know he loves your hair."

She scoffed at him. "No, he doesn't."

Harry shook his head. "How can you not know this?"

"What are you talking about? He likes girls with long, shiny hair, like Padma, like Lavender."

Harry leveled his gaze at her. "I like girls with hair like that. I asked Padma and Parvati to go to the ball with Ron and me. And Lavender came on to him. It was flattering, so he went with it, but he never once mentioned fancying her in all the times we talked about girls with the other guys in the dorms."

She frowned at him, "Talked about fancying me then, did he?"

"Well…" Harry said, knowing Ron could never have admitted something like that, not when it was clearly so much more than a passing fancy.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I rest my case. He probably just said that to make me feel better about our row yesterday." She bit off a piece of toast.

"But—" Harry said.

She held up her palm at him. "Stop. Just stop. I can't talk about this anymore."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, alright."

xXx

Ron hooked a spinner on the fishing line and stood in the surf and cast. As he fished, he thought about his conversation with Hermione about her hair and wondered what she thought of his comments. It wasn't much but he figured it was a start. She might be brilliant, but she could be bloody thick sometimes too. A moment later, a fish hit the lure and he quickly reeled in a good-sized whiting. His morning might be saved after all. The fish were really biting and it wasn't long before he had a string of whiting ranging from a little over a pound to one that he thought was almost four pounds. As he was stringing the four-pounder, he realized the sky had started to darken. He looked up and clouds were rapidly rolling in. By the time, he'd strung the fish and picked up his gear, the rain started, big fat drops that were coming faster and faster. He cast an umbrella charm, but knew it wouldn't do him much good. Like yesterday, the wind wiped the rain in all directions, soaking his jumper. "Bloody hell," he grumbled as he trekked back to the tent.

By the time he got back, he was cold, wet, and shivering. He pulled the tent flap back and dropped the string of fish on the floor. Hermione was curled up in one of the tatty chairs reading. Harry was on the sofa rolling the Snitch between his fingers while he thumbed through a book.

"I've never seen storms come up like they do on this bloody island," Ron groused. "One minute, it's sunny and beautiful. The next minute, the sky is getting dark and before you've got time to get your gear together, it's blowing a bloody gale." He pulled his soaking wet jumper along with the long-sleeved, flannel, shirt he had on under it over his head and dropped them in a wet heap. "It's ridiculous," he continued as he leaned over to pull off his boots, hopping on one foot as he did so. "I'm taking a shower," he said, "before I catch my death. Could one of you put the kettle on?"

xXx

Harry looked over at Hermione to see if she would get up. She seemed quite cross. "What's wrong?" The shower started.

"I wish he wouldn't do that," Hermione said, standing.

"Do what?"

"Undress in front of me. It's not funny. It's kind of cruel, actually," she said, walking over and picking up the string of fish.

"Cruel?" Harry said, following her into the kitchen.

"It's like I said before, he doesn't fancy me, but he knows I fancied him. When he does stuff like that, it just shoves my face in it. It's not fair. I can't help how I feel. I try, but it's hard to be in such close quarters and not get angry when he does that."

Harry shook his head. "I think you think he knows a lot of stuff that he doesn't actually know."

She set the fish in the sink and started pulling them off the string. She looked over her shoulder and rolled her eyes at him.

"What makes you so sure he knows you fancied him?" Harry said, noticing she always put that in the past tense.

"Really? Running into the night screaming his name and begging him not to leave wasn't a clue?" she said dryly and then cast the spell to descale the first fish.

"Yeah, I see what you mean," Harry said, "but he wasn't exactly in the best frame of mind to do that kind of analysis at the time, do you think?"

"How exactly is any analysis involved? I couldn't have been more obvious unless I'd physically thrown myself at him, and I might've done, had he not been so far ahead of me, because of that bloody shield." She descaled the next fish.

"It's possible, even if he knew how you felt then, that he doesn't think you feel that way now."

She descaled the next fish and looked at him. "Is that him talking or you supposing?"

"Hermione…" Harry said.

"Go away and let me get this done," she said and descaled another fish.

Harry sighed and filled the kettle and set it on the stove instead of casting a charm since Ron wasn't out of the shower yet. Hermione had descaled the last fish. She filled the sink with water and cast Diffindo to open up its belly.

"Maybe you should—" Harry started.

She leveled her gazed at him. "Not another word, Harry. I'm serious. You can't fix this." Instead of casting a spell to gut the fish she put her fingers through the slit in its belly and pulled, yanking its guts out in one swift stroke. Harry backed out of the kitchen and returned to his book.


	12. Potion Ingredients

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being thorough can get you in trouble.

Ron stepped out of the shower feeling a lot warmer and a lot saner than when he'd gone in there. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went to get dressed but as he passed the kitchen he saw Hermione cleaning the fish and went in. "What are you doing? I didn't mean for you to do that?"

"Why?" Hermione said, without looking at him. "It had to be done and I was available."

"Alright," Ron said cheerily. "I'll get dressed and help."

She turned around sharply to see him disappear behind the curtain that separated their bunks from the main room of the tent. She turned to Harry, her mouth open in appalled shock.

He gave her a weak sympathetic smile.

A couple of minutes later, Ron came back into the kitchen area in jeans and a green plaid flannel shirt with his hair still damp from the shower. "Alright," he said. "What can I do?"

"Nothing," Hermione said. "They're all cleaned."

"Oh," Ron said. "Sorry. I would've done that."

"It's not a big deal," Hermione said.

"Well, I appreciate it," he said, smiling at her.

"Right," she said through clenched teeth and went to move past him.

"Hang on," he said. "Are you angry at me?"

"Hey, look at that," Harry said. He had the tent flap open. "The rain's stopped. I think I'll get some fresh air." He hurried out.

Ron and Hermione ignored him.

"I'm fine," she said.

"That's not what I asked," Ron countered.

She narrowed her eyes at him and clenched her jaw. Finally, she said. "Alright, yes, I'm a bit miffed with you."

"Why?" he said, knowing he was pushing it, but feeling like he needed to or they were never going to sort this out.

"Look," she said, clearly trying to rein in her temper. "It's all well and good for you to think of me as your sister. Fine, but I'm not actually your sister and I don't appreciate you parading around here half naked like I'm just another bloke."

Ron's jaw dropped. "I don't…what?"

"You heard me," Hermione growled. "Stop rubbing my nose in it. Stop making comments about my clothes and my weight. Stop…" Her voice cracked. "Just stop."

"Hermione, I…"

She pushed past him and hurried toward her room.

"Please don't seal yourself in," he shouted after her. "I know you're not my sister and I don't think of you as a bloke. Hermione, please!"

She stopped at the curtain to her room and turned around.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm worried. I worry all the time. I left and when I came back everything was…you were both so…I worry all the time. I worry that we don't have enough food. I worry that we don't have enough money. I worry that we don't know where the rest of the bloody Horcruxes are." He dropped his voice. "I worry that Harry has lost focus and I don't know how to get him back on track. I worry that you've taken on too much of the burden of all this, the moving, the planning, the research, all of it." He stepped toward her. "You're so… and I wish…but there's nothing to be done about that right now…so I worry…and when I worry…well, I think I might get this from Mum, but when I worry, I think I have a tendency to nag."

Hermione let out a soft snort.

"I'll try to stop doing that and I'm sorry if I've been…too casual…with the clothes. It's just we're in such close quarters and I didn't grow up very…formally, I guess, but I'll try to mind my manners more. I can do that. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Her face relaxed and she stared at him for a moment. "Fine."

He hadn't expected that. "Oh, alright then."

She grabbed a book and sat down in one of the chairs and opened it.

A few minutes later, Harry came in, stamping his boots. "Weather's back, only now it's not just raining, it's also snowing, and sleeting." He pulled off his coat and boots. He dropped down on the sofa and pulled one of the books off the coffee table into his lap.

Ron looked at the other two with a kind of resigned acceptance. They were going to spend yet another afternoon cooped up in the tent. He sat on the other end of the sofa and pulled the map toward him and began looking for their next location. The sooner they were off this rock the better, he thought.

A little while later, Harry nudged him and pointed to an entry in the book he was reading. It was a potion for skin hardening that warrior mages used before battle.

Ron thought that sounded like a potion worth making until he read the ingredient list. "Bloody hell," Ron exclaimed. "I think I'd rather die."

Harry laughed. "Right?"

Hermione looked up. "What?"

"Nothing," Ron said.

But at the same time, Harry said, "This horrible skin-hardening potion."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What's so horrible?"

"Nothing," Ron repeated glaring at Harry, who ignored him.

"They want a foreskin," Harry said.

Hermione shrugged. "Easy enough to get at a potion shop. Slug and Jiggers carries them." She returned to reading.

"What?" Ron said, pulling a face. "From where?"

"Mostly America, I imagine," Hermione said.

"What the hell are they doing in America?" Ron gasped.

"Most American men are circumcised as babies," she said without looking up. "And, of course, Jewish men, which given when that book was written, is probably where they acquired the foreskins back then."

Ron looked at Harry. "Did you know that?"

Harry shook his head. "No. How would I?"

Without thinking, Ron said, "How does she?"

Hermione slammed her book shut and got up.

"Hey," Ron said, suddenly realizing what he'd just implied. "I didn't mean—"

"Oh, do shut up," she said acidly and went to her bunk, yanking the curtain closed behind her.

"Brilliant," Harry muttered.

"Bugger off, Harry," Ron muttered back. He went to his own bunk and rolled in. He slammed his head back against his pillow. Why did his mouth open before his brain was fully engaged? Hermione knew an awful lot about potion ingredients. Just because she seemed to know everything about foreskins and which men had them and which didn't, didn't mean that it was from first-hand knowledge of the subject. She'd likely just read about it. In absolutely no way did it mean that one of those Muggles she dated was American, and she knew about the state of his foreskin, because she'd slept with him. It probably, most definitely, didn't mean that. Except, he was worried that was exactly what it meant, and if she'd slept with some American Muggle last summer or even the summer before, well then, that would have made it all the more likely that she would have reached for Harry for comfort while he was gone, wouldn't it? He felt sick. This was going to make everything so much more difficult. Even if he somehow miraculously managed to finally win back her affections, he'd just lose them again, when he didn't know what he was doing in bed. He covered his face with his hands and pressed his fingertips against his eyelids. He thought about _Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches_. Fred and George would be very disappointed in how he'd been managing his relationship with Hermione. He shook his head and thought about the conversation he'd had with Bill about that book after Christmas.

Bill hadn't thought the book was all that useful beyond the first steps of getting a girl's attention. He'd given Ron a much better book, a much more graphic, much more serious book that talked about love, respect, trust, and sex. _Love and Sex for Witches and Wizards_ had been life-altering. It was that book that he thought of when he thought of Hermione, and these days, he felt like all he thought about was Hermione and Horcruxes and food, but she took up the lion's share of his thoughts. He wished he had both books now. He'd like to read them again. Hell, he'd memorize them, front to back, so if he ever did get a chance, he wouldn't embarrass himself and disappoint her. He felt like he'd disappointed her enough, too much, way too much.


	13. One Young Woman, Two Old Worlds

Ron didn't see Hermione again until she came to get him for third watch. She'd skipped both lunch and dinner. He'd fallen asleep worrying about her and had been dreaming about her, so when she put her hand on his shoulder to wake him, it just incorporated into the dream.

"Sure," he said. "Get in."

"What?" Hermione said.

Ron opened his eyes. "Um, sorry, I'm getting up."

"Okay," Hermione said slowly and went back through the curtain.

He shook his head. The dream had been so real. She'd come to him and said she was cold and asked if she could sleep with him. He shook his head again and got up. It was his turn for watch. He didn't want to keep her waiting. When he stepped out of the tent, she went in without a word. He sighed and followed her.

"Oi," he whispered. She stopped but didn't turn around. "Can we talk for a minute?"

He saw her square her shoulders before turning around. "Fine," she said resignedly and went past him out the tent flap. He followed to find her waiting by the fire with her arms crossed. She didn't look at him.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he began. "I didn't mean to imply…well, anything. I was just shocked that anyone would do such a thing to a baby. It's crazy and barbaric. Anyway, it's none of my business."

"What isn't?" Hermione asked, looking at him for the first time.

"Anything," he said. "What Americans do to their babies, how you know about it, all of that, none of my business."

She blinked at him and her face twitched. "Right. Well, goodnight then."

xXx

The next day, Ron used the left-over whiting to make fish cakes. He fried them and served them with the last of the eggs scrambled. He was pleased to see Hermione clean her plate. Since the weather had broken, they decided to leave the island for the much larger Isle of Lewis right after breakfast. They landed outside the tiny village of Arnol and set up camp.

Ron was relieved that they were heading east, or he was until after lunch when Harry and Hermione got into it over Horcruxes versus Hallows yet again. After a blazing row, Harry had gone outside and Hermione had retreated to her room. Ron decided to let them both cool off and spent his afternoon pouring over the map trying to find a nearby magical village that might have at least some tangential connection to what they were supposed to be looking for. He was reading through an entry on Rowena Ravenclaw in a book of biographies when Hermione emerged from her room. She went into the kitchen.

"Do you want some cocoa?" she asked Ron.

"Sure," he said.

She brought them each a steaming cup, handed him his, and sat down on the other end of the sofa. "I hate arguing with Harry."

"I know," Ron said.

She shook her head. "I can't sleep. For the last few days, I keep waking up worried he's gone off the deep end over the Hallows and we're never going to finish this stupid quest."

"I know," Ron repeated.

"I feel like we're stuck. I'm so sick of being a fugitive."

Ron nodded. "Yeah. Me too."

She sighed. "What are you working on?"

"I'm reading about Rowena Ravenclaw. I thought there might be significant places in her life that we could visit."

"That's an idea," Hermione said.

"We haven't been to any of these places," Ron said. "And some of them are close."

She shrugged and sipped her cocoa. "Alright."

After she'd been quiet for a long time, Ron realized she'd dozed off.

xXx

Hermione woke to the sudden realization that someone's hand was on her breast. Her eyes popped open to see the gray light of dawn and the dying embers of the fire from last night. The sound of the surf and sea birds squawking seemed unbearably loud. Jean-Pierre was spooned behind her. His right arm was draped over her, the hand covering her breast was between the thin hoodie she was wearing and her bikini. Her head was pounding. They'd had a party on the beach last night with some friends from the resort. There was beer, a lot of beer, so much beer. Sixteen was stupidly young to allow anyone to buy alcohol, she decided. Clearly, they'd all fallen asleep on the beach. She looked around to see other people, some alone, some coupled-up, asleep on the sand all around her. She tried to move Jean's arm without waking him, but he stirred behind her. Nuzzling his nose against her neck and pressing against her as he hugged her tight.

"Mmm," he said. "Salut."

"Jean, let me up, my parents are going to kill me," she whispered.

He yawned. "Why?"

"Because we've been out here all night." She sat up and shook sand out of her hair.

His eyes popped open. He stood uttering a string of French expletives. "Come on," he said, pulling her to her feet. They started off walking, but were soon running, back to the hotel. When they reached the lobby doors, they slowed to a walk, and went to the bank of elevators. One opened just as they arrived. Hermione hit the four button and Jean the seven. They looked nervously at each other. When the doors opened onto her floor. Jean grabbed her hand and gave her a quick kiss. "Good luck," he said.

"Thanks, you too," she said and stepped off the elevator. She opened the door to the suite she was sharing with her parents as quietly as she could, but when she closed it behind her and turned around, her mother was standing in the doorway of her bedroom. "Where have you been?"

Hermione turned around, pressing her back against the door. "Some of us had a party on the beach last night. I fell asleep."

"With Jean-Pierre?" Her mother's lips tightened into a disapproving line.

"And ten or fifteen other people, we built a fire. Mark brought his CD player. There was dancing."

"You spent the night with Jean-Pierre?" her mother said.

"Yes, but did you miss the part where there were a bunch of other people there?" Hermione said.

Her mother walked toward her. "What are you doing, Mi? You barely know that boy. You shouldn't be spending the night with him."

"I didn't," Hermione protested. "I mean, I did, but we fell asleep. It was an accident."

Her mother sniffed. "You smell like a brewery."

Hermione shrugged. "We had a few beers."

Her mother frowned. "You're not old enough to drink beer."

"The drinking age here is sixteen," Hermione said blandly.

"It's not at home," her mother said.

"Then you probably shouldn't have brought me to Spain," Hermione quipped.

Her mother's frown deepened. "Don't be cheeky."

Hermione shrugged again.

"Stop doing that," her mother said angrily. "Stop shrugging everything off as though none of this matters."

"It doesn't," Hermione said.

"It does matter that you've been drinking and spent the night with some boy you hardly know? It most certainly matters! Does Jean-Pierre even know who you are?"

"Of course," Hermione said, but she couldn't look at her mother as she said it.

"He knows you're a witch then?" her mother pressed.

"No! You know I'm not allowed to tell anyone that until I'm seventeen, and even then, it's tricky."

"If you're not old enough to tell a boy who you really are, then you're not old enough to be having sex with him."

"I'm not having sex with him," Hermione said through clenched teeth. "But it's nice to hear that you still remember I'm a witch."

"What's that supposed to mean?" her mother said, clearly affronted.

Hermione had had enough and pushed past her mother to go to her room, but her mother was hot on her heels.

"What are you saying?" her mother said.

Hermione turned around. "I'm saying that you've been threatening to pull me out of Hogwarts since I got home." She yanked the hoodie over her head causing a mini sand shower. She angrily tossed it in the corner of the room. She felt like there was about five pounds of sand in her hair and her head wanted to split open.

Her mother grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her in front of the mirror. "Look at you," she shouted at Hermione's image as she stood there in a maroon bikini. Hermione's eyes skittered over the long purple scar that ran from her right collar bone to just above her left hip. "Someone tried to split you in two. How are we supposed to feel comfortable sending you back to that school?"

Hermione swallowed hard. "I told you, that was nothing to do with the school. It was my fault." Her mother shook her head. Hermione knew her mother knew she was lying and her mother knew she knew it, but they both stood there. "It's not my fault you don't like how I'm handling being a Muggle," Hermione said.

Her mother's mouth dropped open. "Is that what this is? If we don't let you go back to Hogwarts, you're just going to party and run around with boys the whole time. Is that it? That's not who you are."

"You wanted a Muggle daughter, well, now you've got one."

Her mother huffed at her. "That's the most prejudiced thing I think I've ever heard you say. As if all Muggle girls are the same. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Hermione's cheeks flushed but she looked away from her mother and shrugged again.

"You're being ridiculous," her mother said. "You can't have sex with some boy just to spite us."

"I told you we aren't having sex yet," Hermione snapped and the word hung between them. Yet.

"Mi be reasonable," her mother implored. "You've been badly injured. We only want—"

"And that's all you can see," Hermione said. "It's all anyone can see. Except Jean, he looks beyond the scar and sees me."

"I see you, Hermione," her mother said. "I'm just frightened for you."

"You don't see me. You see a little girl. I'm not a little girl anymore."

"I know that. I just want you to be careful," her mother said softly.

"I know what a condom is, Mum," Hermione scoffed.

Her mother shook her head. "I'm not even—That's not—" She sighed. "I thought you said there was a charm."

"You know I can't use magic off school grounds until I'm seventeen."

"So, you'll follow school rules but not ours?"

"That's not fair," Hermione said. "If I don't follow school rules, the Ministry will take my wand."

"Maybe we should do that," her mother muttered.

"I wouldn't suggest you try," Hermione said, surprised by how angry the very idea made her.

Her mother shook her head. "It's like I don't even know who you are anymore."

"And yet you're still trying to tell me what to do," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

Her mother slapped her. Hard. Across the face. They both stood there, shocked by the sudden violence. Neither of her parents had ever struck her.

"I'm sorry," her mother gasped, looking down at her hand like she'd never seen it before.

But Hermione wasn't listening. Tears sprang to her eyes and she tore out of the room, out of the suite, and down the hall to the stairs. Her mother ran behind her crying her name, but she didn't look back.

xXx

The village where Rowena Ravenclaw was born wasn't on the map. Ron checked again and it definitely wasn't there. He sighed and looked to see if Hermione was awake on the other end of the sofa and realized she was crying in her sleep.

"Hermione?" he said softly, giving her knee a gentle shake.

Her eyes popped open. "Mum!" She sat up. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Ron said. "It was just a dream."

Hermione shook her head. "I was horrible to her."

Assuming that she was talking about Obliviating herself out of her parents' memories and sending them to Australia, Ron said, "You did what you had to do to keep them safe."

She shook her head again. "I said such awful things to her."

"You were dreaming," Ron said sympathetically. "I'll get you a cup of tea." When he came back in with two steaming cups of PG Tips, she had pulled her knees up and was resting her forehead on them. "Come on, get some of this in you," he said, handing her a mug. "You'll feel better."

She took a sip. "I'm a horrible daughter."

"That's not true," Ron said.

She frowned at him. "How would you know? When was the last time you even saw my parents?"

"Well, it was…um…at the train station, end of last year."

"Right but did you even speak to them?"

"Uh," Ron said. "Well, I hugged you goodbye and I guess I sort of waved at them."

"Yes, well, then you speak with authority, I guess."

"Hey," Ron said. "I know you. You can't be a horrible daughter, because you're not a horrible person."

She cocked her head at him. "You've never had to pretend to be someone you're not. You've never had to suppress who you really are. I'm not one person no matter where I go. I was never allowed to be that. You might know the witch, but you don't know the Muggle at all."

He looked at her and realized she was right. He was who he was pretty much all the time. He'd never had to hide being a wizard because he'd only ever lived in the magical world. As a pureblood, he'd never had to endure the kind of prejudice Muggleborns and Half-bloods had to deal with. His only limitation had been money. "You're right," he said. "I don't know much about your life outside of school. You don't talk much about it and I guess I haven't asked."

She took another sip of her tea. "The summer after fifth year, when I came home, I lied to them. I had left stuff out before when I talked about school with them, but I'd never really lied. The problem was, they knew I was lying, and I knew they knew, but I still wouldn't tell them the truth. Magic always stood between us to a certain extent. I tried to include them, but obviously there are things I just couldn't…well, you were there. Did you tell your parents everything we got up too?"

Ron snorted. "Certainly not."

"Right, but when I lied, really lied, what was a crack in our relationship expanded so much, that by the time you sent the letter asking me to come stay with your family, it was more like a chasm between my parents and me. I tried to repair things with letters but you can only do so much that way and sixth year was so...busy. Then I got to spend so little time with them last summer before I had too…well…maybe that was for the best anyway. At least now they don't remember how horrible their daughter was."

"I'm so sorry you had to do that," Ron said. "It's not fair. But from what little I've seen of your parents over the years, they always looked really happy to see you and really sad to see you go. All you had to do was look at them to see how much they loved you. I'm sorry you went through such a bad patch there at the end, but I'm also sure that's all it was. If they could have stayed, I'm sure you would have worked it out."

"Maybe," she said. "But now I'll never know." Another tear slipped down her cheek.

He wanted to hug her. He wanted to wrap his whole body around her and tell her that he loved her, his family loved her, that his parents thought of her like a daughter, that she wasn't really without a family, because his family could be her family now. He could have done it too, last year, right up until the moment he'd walked out, but not now. He sat with her and let her cry in silence. He couldn't tell her it was going to be okay because it wasn't. Obliviation was permanent.

When she seemed to have pulled herself together, Ron said, "I was wondering if you could help me with something."

She sniffled. "Alright."

"I can't find several of the villages Rowena Ravenclaw went to on the map."

"Like where?"

"A village called Forvie is where she met Helga Hufflepuff, but I can't find it. It's supposed to be in Aberdeenshire." He held out the map to her.

"Forvie," she said, scanning the map. "Forvie. Hmm. I've never heard of it. Does it still exist?"

"Why wouldn't it, especially if such famous people were there?" Ron said.

"Well, that region has lost villages to encroaching dunes, could it be one of those?"

Ron shrugged. "Dunno."

"Hmm, let me see, I think I brought a historic Atlas. She opened her bag and started poking around. Eventually her whole upper body was in the bag which afforded Ron an alluring and yet also amusing view of her backside as she sorted through her books. A couple of minutes later, she emerged and Ron pretended to be reading. "Here it is. I'll look through this."

"Great," Ron said. "Aberdeenshire is pretty far, but there are some closer sites significant to her life that we could hit first."

"Alright," Hermione said, perking up at purposeful research.

Ron smiled at her as she opened the atlas. She was so mad for books. Nothing made her so happy as digging through a dusty old tome. He loved her. He was as mad about her as she was about books and it filled him simultaneously with hope and despair.


	14. Cardinal Directions

When Harry finally came back in, he sat across from them in the worn upholstered chair and pulled the throw off the back of it and wrapped it around him. "It's going to be a cold night," he said. "The wind is really picking up."

"How do you feel about going back to the mainland in the morning?" Ron asked. "We could hit Laide and then—"

Harry laughed. "What?"

Ron looked up from the map. "What?" Harry was amused and Hermione had her eyebrows up.

"All of us? Or just you?" Harry asked with a grin.

"All of us, of course, what are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about?" Harry said, shaking his head. "You're the one talking about getting laid."

"What? No. I said we could hit Laide, the town, not get laid. How would that even work?"

"Well, Ron, when two people really like each other…" Harry teased.

Hermione let out a soft snort and pinched the bridge of her nose. She closed her eyes and shook her head. She was clearly trying not to laugh.

Ron clenched his teeth. He had a strong desire to wing the heavy tome in his lap at Harry's head, but he reined himself in, and settled for saying, "Bugger off, Harry."

Harry smiled at him. "Come on, that was funny. The town is called Laide. How can you not think that's hilarious?"

"Well…" Ron said, glancing at Hermione. It was funny, but he didn't want to seem immature in front of her, and sexual humor was always tricky.

"Laide," Hermione said, laughing. "Is that north of buggered, south of groped?"

Ron's mouth dropped open.

Harry laughed out loud. "East of randy," he sputtered.

"But west of wanking," Ron said, seeing as how she'd started it, and they were all laughing. "Alright, alright," he said, when they'd pulled themselves together. "Seriously though, it's close, and we should go there because Hufflepuff's mum is supposed to be buried near there and it could be a possible location for the cup or maybe some other artifact of hers, or a clue, something."

Harry nodded. "Fine by me."

Hermione agreed and it was settled.

xXx

As Ron was sitting first watch, he stared at the fire and chuckled to himself again over Hermione's joke. She wasn't exactly known for being jocular, but on occasion, like tonight, she could be quite funny. He shook his head. 'North of buggered, south of groped.' He chuckled again but then he thought about their conversation earlier and how she'd said he might know the witch, but he didn't know anything about the Muggle. He wondered about that. It was hard to imagine her in that world. Magic came so easily to her and she was so quick to use it in almost any situation that it must have made her crazy to have to suppress it. He wondered how that craziness manifested itself. She'd said she'd rowed with her mum and was awful to her, but that's how mums and daughters were sometimes, wasn't it? Ginny certainly said things to their mum that he would never say and some of their rows were quite rough. He didn't recall any of his brothers rowing with their mother like Ginny did. On the other hand, Ginny was also way more snuggly with her parents than him or any of his brothers were, and if anything upset their mum, Ginny was the first to her side. Maybe all girls were like that. Hermione was probably just being hard on herself, like she often was, and didn't know any better because she was an only child. He wondered what that was like. He supposed it could be quite nice to have all that attention, to not have to share everything, to not always be wearing hand-me-downs. On the other hand, to have all that scrutiny, to have every little thing he did seem significant, the pressure, the loneliness, no one to turn to who'd been there before. He shook his head. He wouldn't trade his situation for hers even if she had come from a magical family. He yawned.

xXx

Someone grabbed him. He yanked whoever it was forward over his shoulder and slammed him on the ground. He rolled on top of the bloody wanker, his wand at the ready.

"Ron," Hermione squeaked from the ground.

"Bloody hell!" Ron said. Rolling off of her, he got to his feet. "Don't grab me like that!"

"I didn't grab you. I just touched your shoulder. I thought you'd dozed off."

Ron rubbed a hand down his face. She was right. He must have nodded off for a moment. She was still lying flat on her back staring up at him. He held out his hand and she took it and he pulled her to her feet.

"Ow," she said as she dusted herself off.

"Are you alright?" he asked, feeling awful.

"I'm fine. Mostly, just startled. I wasn't exactly expecting that reaction."

"I'm sorry," he said. "Things were tense with the Snatchers. I guess I'm a bit more on edge than I realized."

"It's okay. I won't touch you again. I'll just call your name from now on. Go on then, I've got this."

He sighed. The idea of her not touching him again was completely disheartening. He went inside and made her a cup of tea and brought it out to find her stretching. "You're not alright," he said.

"I'm fine. I'm just trying to warm up." She took the tea he held out to her. "Thanks for this."

"No worries." They stared at each other for a moment. "Right, well, I guess that's me off to bed then."

"Goodnight," she said.

He nodded. "You too." He mentally kicked himself as he got ready for bed. Could he possibly be a bigger git? He didn't think so. When he was away, he'd dreamed of coming back, of telling Hermione how he really felt, of being useful to her and Harry, to really pulling his weight, so she would see that he was worthy of her affections, but so far, his plan hadn't been going very well. Sure, he'd provided some meals, but he'd also managed to insult her, make her think she didn't rate a date, and now he'd slammed her to the ground. If he didn't pull himself together, she and Harry were going to boot him out of the tent for good.

xXx

The next day they broke camp for Laide on the mainland. Once they had their camp set up, they did glamor charms. Harry hadn't been shaving, so he colored his hair and beard an icy blonde.

"Eww," Ron said. "Shades of Draco."

Harry snorted. "That's actually what I was going for, that pureblood knob look."

Ron laughed. His own hair was dark brown as was the stubble on his cheeks.

Hermione stepped out of her room with her hair in a braid like usual, but her curls were blonde. "I tried straightening it, but the charm won't hold more than a couple of minutes in this weather."

"Did you have to go blonde too?" Ron grumbled.

She glared at him. "I suppose I could make it red."

"Gross, no," Ron said. "Then you'd look like family."

"Well, what color do you want it?" she asked, irritated.

"Brown," he grumbled.

"Then, I'll just look like me, which seems like a bad plan."

"Right," he said. "Sorry, blonde is fine."

She let out an exasperated sigh and pulled on her coat. "Let's just go."

They set off for the old cemetery by the shore. There was a ruined church surrounded by an old graveyard. As they walked among the headstones, they cast revealing charms, looking for the magic section of the cemetery. Harry found it.

"Over here," he called. It took half an hour to find the stone attributed to Helga Hufflepuff's mother, but there was nothing there but the grave.

"It was a good thought, though," Hermione said. She stamped her feet to warm them and pulled her scarf up over her nose.

"Let's get back to camp," Ron said. "It's freezing out here."

"Might as well," Harry said, drawing his wand.

They all Apparated separately back to the campsite. Ron arrived first and stepped inside the tent to add wood to the stove and make tea.

Harry came in a few minutes later with an armload of twigs and branches. "Did Hermione beat us back," he said.

Ron had just finished pouring hot water into three mugs. "No. I think I was first."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, he pulled back the curtain on her room. "Hermione." She wasn't there.

"Bloody hell," Ron said. "How long have we been back?"

"Dunno," Harry said. "Ten minutes maybe. I was looking for firewood. It didn't occur to me that maybe she wasn't back until just now. Could she be hunting for mushrooms?"

"Bloody hell," Ron repeated, drawing his wand. "She would have said if she was going to do that. I'll go back. Stay here. Send your Patronus if she shows up." He was heading for the tent flap when she stepped inside. "Where the hell have you been?" Ron roared.

She stepped back. "Calm down. I saw something in the cemetery that we missed, but it turned out to be nothing."

"Don't do that!" Ron shouted, running his fingers through his hair. "If you think we missed something, tell us, and we'll all go back together. Bloody hell, I thought you'd been snatched."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, her cheeks coloring. "I wasn't gone that long."

"Ten bloody minutes!" Ron shouted. "That's like an eternity. Anything could have happened!"

"I'm very sorry," Hermione said tightly. "Could you please stop shouting at me."

Ron ran a hand down his face. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Alright," Harry said, handing them each a cup of tea. "We're all very sorry. It won't happen again. No harm done."

"Right," Ron said.

Hermione nodded.


	15. The Calm Before the Storm

That night, Hermione offered to make dinner. It was Ron's turn, but he didn't argue, because he assumed she was doing it to make up for scaring him half to death earlier. The night was mostly clear and the sky was full of stars glinting between the clouds as he and Harry sat outside around the fire while Hermione cooked. It wasn't long before delicious smells began to issue forth from the tent.

"What's she making?" Ron said. "It smells amazing."

"It smells like meat," Harry said.

"We don't have any meat," Ron said. He started to get up, but Harry grabbed his arm. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Ron. Besides, it's Hermione. She probably just found some new mushrooms that smell like meat when they're cooking."

Ron shrugged and sat back down. "Yeah. So, I was thinking we could go to—"

Hermione stepped out of the tent with three plates balanced awkwardly.

"Oh, hey," Harry said.

"Take the one on my arm," she said.

"Hermione," Ron said. "I think I'm in love." Each plate had a steak, mashed potatoes and green beans on it.

She snorted softly and handed him a plate.

"I'll get drinks," Harry said.

"No need," Hermione said, setting her plate down and getting out her beaded bag. She got out a four pack of Guinness Pub Draught and pulled out a can for each of them.

Ron's mouth dropped open. "Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?" he sputtered, as he popped open the can of beer.

"Happy birthday," she said.

Ron paused and thought. "It's March first?"

"Yes," she said, picking up her plate. She handed them knives and forks before opening her own can of beer.

"Happy birthday, mate!" Harry said, cheerily holding up his Guinness. They all clinked the cans together.

"Thank you," Ron said. "Thank you so much." He cut off a piece of steak and moaned when he put it in his mouth. "This is delicious." He liked the Guinness too. "Not as sweet as a Butterbeer but not as bitter as Dragon Scale," he declared.

They sat in happy silence eating for a while.

"Hang on," Ron said, pointing at Hermione with his fork. "Did you go to a market today? Is that where you were?"

Her cheeks colored. "There was a small market in town. I wasn't in there long and I was under a glamour charm."

"That was still bloody risky to do on your own in broad daylight," Ron said, but not angrily.

She shrugged. "It's your birthday."

"Yeah, but it's not like we celebrated your birthday," he said.

"Well, my birthday didn't exactly fall at an opportune time," she said quietly.

"Right," Ron said. "So, we'll celebrate now then. To Hermione," he said and held up his can of beer.

Harry clinked his against it. "Hear, hear!"

Hermione smiled and opened her beaded bag again. "They didn't have a bakery at this market and we don't have an oven, so I just got biscuits for desert." She pulled out a box of Jaffa Cakes and a packet of Hobnobs.

"Perfect," Ron said.

Harry was staring at his can of Guinness. "How did you buy beer? You didn't use your own ID, did you?"

"No. I have a fake one with a different name that says I'm twenty."

"Oh?" Harry said. He cocked his head at her and started to say something, but Ron finished his beer and Hermione handed him the last one.

"We should split this one," Ron said.

"You two split it," Hermione said. "It's been so long since I've had beer, that one went right to my head."

Ron went into the tent and brought out a tumbler and the radio. "I thought I might luck out and we can hear Potterwatch tonight." He poured half the remaining Guinness into the tumbler and handed it to Harry. Hermione lay on her back and looked at the stars while Ron fiddled with the radio. "I think it's too early," he said after a few minutes. He kept fiddling with the dials until a song started playing.

"Stop," Hermione said. "I love that song."

Ron looked at the radio. It wasn't even a magical station. There must be a Muggle station very nearby or the clouds were bouncing the signal just right for it to bleed over.

Hermione got to her feet. "We should dance. Come on." She grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him to his feet. Then she reached for Ron, who happily got up. She pointed her wand at the fire and sparks began to swirl and pulse with the beat of the music and then so did she. Ron felt like a right prat dancing, but he didn't care, he hadn't seen her smile like this in so long, he would do anything to keep her happy. She moved freely between him and Harry taking their hands and twirling around. She shimmied against him and Ron thought he might die right there. Harry, proving himself to be Ron's best mate, subtly stepped aside and let them dance.

The song had an infectious beat and two singers, a female lead singing of dreaming of love so true, and then a deep voiced male, singing of a vision of love and the difference between lovers and fakes. Ron had never heard the song before but it was clear Hermione was very familiar with it. She knew just how to move and when the music would shift. Ron mostly just let her dance holding her hand and twirling her around whenever she seemed to want that. She didn't seem to care that he was awkward, she just moved around him, always on beat and moving easily.

When the song faded into static and the station disappeared, Hermione flopped on to the ground still smiling.

"Good song," Ron ventured. "I've never heard it."

"Muggle group," she said. "Real McCoy, I think they're called. It was in heavy rotation a couple of summers ago. We danced a lot to that song."

"We?" Ron asked, hoping it sounded as casual as he wanted it to.

"You know, kids at the resort where I stayed with my parents."

"Ah," Ron said. He picked up the can of Guinness and finished it off. "Is that where you drank this beer too?"

She sat up straight. "No. We mostly drank Estrella. I think I'll go to bed. It's getting late and I have second watch."

Ron nodded. "Okay. Goodnight then."

"Night," she said. Harry nodded at her and she went inside.

Ron turned the can of Guinness in his hands and wondered about the Hermione that went dancing and drinking at a resort with a bunch of people he didn't know. He looked at Harry, "You've got first watch, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"I'm going in then." He got to his feet and went inside. Hermione was coming out of the bathroom as he walked in. They almost ran into each other.

"Sorry," they said at the same time.

"I wanted to thank you again," Ron said, "for the birthday party. It was fantastic. Dinner was delicious and the beer was a nice change and the dancing was…also good." He cringed inside at how awkward that came out.

"It was fun," she said. "I should go to bed though."

"Hermione." She turned back to look at him. "I didn't mean anything when I asked about the beer. I just…when we were talking the other day and…well…what you said about living in two worlds and how I didn't know anything about the Muggle part of you…I…well…if it's part of you, I reckon I'd like to know about it."

She gave him a sad sort of half smile. "No need," she said quietly. "There's nothing left of that life." She slipped under her curtain before he could think of a response.

xXx

They never got a chance to look for the missing village of Forvie, because the next night, Ron managed to get Potterwatch on the radio and Harry was so excited that Voldemort was rumored to be abroad, which he thought meant he was still looking for the Elderwand, that he forgot about the trace, and said the name. And all hell broke loose.

_~Finis~_

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. You might also like my books: The Annie Fitch Mysteries: **Exposed Fury** and **Hidden Fury** **(available March 2,2021)** and the stand alone novel: **One Big Beautiful Thing** , available anywhere books are sold and on all digital platforms. Enjoy!


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